


And All the World Comes Tumbling Down

by InkheartFirebringer



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: AU - Beth survives, Also Hannah's leg is twisted instead of broken, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because he's amazing and I wish he hadn't been doomed by canon, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, She's in a coma though, So he's getting more screen time, The Stranger's in this one too, These two facts make all the difference, for everyone involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:23:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6327046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkheartFirebringer/pseuds/InkheartFirebringer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Hannah AND Beth survive their fall into the mines. Now Hannah has to deal with a badly twisted leg and a comatose sister, while desperately trying to discover a way to escape. Meanwhile, Josh has been experiencing strange, premonition-like dreams and an inexplicable urge to return to the mountain. (Also featuring everyone's favourite Stranger and Josh x Sam. A fix-it fic.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Do Not Dream; Wake, Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Until Dawn.
> 
> Been kicking the idea around for this story for a while, because I love the Stranger and wish he got more screen-time. Plus, I really want a few more Hannah and/or Beth survives/isn’t a Wendigo AUs. And some Josh coming to the rescue of his sisters, because what better way to help alleviate his guilt over not being sober enough to be aware they needed help in canon. And also some Josh x Sam because I love me some of that too. xD

Hannah woke slowly. Her eyes opened and she squinted to adjust to the sight in front of her. She was lying on her back, looking up at a rocky ceiling. Pale, wan moonlight streamed in through a hole in the roof, illuminating a long, steep icy slope, studded with rocks that looked black in the low light.

 _That’s where you fell in,_ a part of her brain supplied helpfully. She tried moving and groaned as pain flared all over her body.  She tried to ease herself onto her elbows but the pain was so fierce she had to stop. _Oh God, what if my spine’s damaged?_

Hannah swallowed, her throat suddenly dry as dust. _Won’t know until you try, Hannah!_ A cheerful voice that sounded like Sam at her most encouraging spoke up in the back of her mind.

Focusing on that instead of the sudden bitter taste of fear in her mouth, the older Washington twin eased herself slowly upright. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes and she let out several shaky gasps that might have been closer to sobs, but she eventually made it to a sitting position despite the agony movement caused.  _Okay, spine is not broken._ The relief barely had time to register before her gaze fell on the still form of her twin, lying not far away, and suddenly there was no room for any other thought in her head.

 _“Beth!”_ she cried, lurching to her feet, and _oh God, that hurts_ and the pain nearly sent her to the floor again, but she kept going. Gamely, she managed to limp and stagger her way to Beth’s side, and there was definitely something wrong with her left leg, it could hardly bear her weight, but she ignored it, _please, please be alright Beth –_

Hannah managed a barely controlled collapse to the ground at her twin’s side and frantically reached for her, fingers searching desperately for the pulse point on Beth’s neck. Her sister’s face was serene, as if she were merely sleeping but Hannah couldn’t feel anything except absolute dread at her stillness.

Then her fingers found it; a pulse, slow but steady, just under Beth’s jaw and Hannah made a strangled sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. “Oh God, Beth…”

The relief was overwhelming in its intensity. Hannah leaned forward to press a kiss to her twin’s forehead and only realised she was crying when a tear landed on Beth’s cheek, gleaming silver in the moonlight. “Oh God, Beth, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, guilt and grief and self-loathing all tangling up into an ugly snarl in her chest. “This is all my fault – I swear I’ll get us out of this. We’ll see Mom and Dad and Josh again.” Her voice broke halfway through the last word, and she blinked back her tears, determined not to let more fall. “I promise.”

xxx

This, Hannah was quick to discover, was easier to promise than to do. They appeared to have fallen into some kind of underground cavern – not entirely natural, judging by the regularity of its shape and by the wooden support beams spaced along the walls. _Mines_ , some part of her brain supplied. She vaguely remembered Dad talking about them, the first time they had come to the mountain. Mainly it had been a ‘don’t go anywhere _near_ them’ speech – they had been condemned back in the sixties and no one had bothered maintaining them since.

“So, more good news then, basically,” Hannah muttered with uncharacteristic sarcasm to her twin. “Not only are we in danger of dying from cold or hunger, the roof might also collapse on our heads. Fantastic.”

Beth made no reply, as usual. Hannah was excruciatingly aware of the silence, broken only by her own voice, sounding thin and quiet in the oppressive hush of the mines. It was like the weight of hundreds of tonnes of rock were pressing down on them, extinguishing any attempt at laughter or levity.

Not there was much to laugh about. Hannah was still shaky from the discovery of the wound on the back of Beth’s head. A careful search for injuries had led her to find the frightening amount of blood matting the hair at back of her twin’s skull and staining the ground underneath her.  That wasn’t the most terrifying part though. The skin had been split, which had caused the copious bleeding – but that was normal for any head wound, Hannah had reassured herself. What was truly frightening was the dent in Beth’s skull. Hannah had been too scared to even consider moving her twin after that, in case it aggravated her head injury.

 _Especially if she already has brain damage,_ a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. Hannah shook her own head. _You don’t know that for sure,_ she thought sternly.

 _Then why hasn’t she woken up yet?_ The little voice persisted. Hannah didn’t want to listen to the sound of her worse fears, the thought that Beth might be in a coma, a coma caused by _her_ stupidity.

The hole in the roof had granted one small mercy in that at least she had the ability to tell time and more importantly, see sunlight. She had nearly cried when the sun had risen that morning and the sight of a brilliant blue sky had greeted her. But it was joy and torment in equal measure. _So near, and yet so far._ And while it allowed her to tell time more accurately than Beth’s watch, damaged in the fall, it also made her extremely aware of how long her twin had been unconscious for. The longer Beth didn’t wake, the more the little voice in Hannah’s head fretted that maybe she wouldn’t wake up at all.

Hannah breathed out and blinked away the tears blurring her vision. “Stop it,” she scolded herself out loud. “If Beth was awake she’d tell you to pull yourself together. Wouldn’t you?” she switched to addressing her twin mid-sentence, trying to smile. If Beth was only asleep, maybe the sound of her voice would wake her up. And if she was in a coma…well, coma patients were supposed to be able to hear people talking to them right? Hannah wasn’t sure how accurate TV was in that regard.

 _Probably not the best source for accuracy,_ she thought ruefully, looking down at her left leg. _And I know fuck all about first aid too._ Aside from some half-remembered facts she had heard from Sam, who had been on several first aid courses, she only had had basic bandaging at her disposal.

“Which is going to have to do,” she muttered aloud. She couldn’t afford to just sit here, waiting for rescue. _Beth_ couldn’t afford it, which was far more important. She needed to try and find a way back to the surface and to do that, she needed to be able to walk. And to walk, she needed to strap up her twisted knee, which was currently a horrible, bruised, purplish mess.

Hannah had found a worn – and probably hideously unsanitary – piece of cloth draped over a nail on one of the support beams. Beggars couldn’t be choosers however, and she couldn’t afford to sacrifice one of the few articles of clothing she and Beth had between them to create a brace for her knee.  She was already fretting enough about Beth lying on the bare, cold ground, without the benefit of heat generated through exercise. Not that Hannah was exactly running anywhere with her busted knee, but it was better than nothing.

She finished tying the last knot on the makeshift knee brace and stood. She took an uncertain step forward; her leg shook but held. _Good enough,_ she thought grimly and limped forward. _Time to find a way out._

xxx

This resolution, Hannah discovered to her chagrin, was also easier said than done.

“Oh, _come on_ ,” she said aloud, as another tunnel ended in a wall of rock. She clenched her fists and breathed deeply and evenly until the urge to cry faded away. Anger and frustration lashed at her, underpinned by urgency and a deep quiet fear, like a slow-moving current far, far below the surface. _Maybe there **is** no way out,_ an insidious little voice whispered.

“No, stop it,” she snapped at herself. She shook her head, as if she could physically dislodge the thought. “Stay positive. That’s what Beth would do. That’s what Sam do.”

 _But you’re not Sam or Beth,_ the little voice pointed out ruthlessly. _Either one of them would be doing so much better in this situation. In fact, they’d probably be home by now, with help for their injured sister already on the way._

“Sam doesn’t have a sister,” Hannah muttered stubbornly, deliberately ignoring the point of the argument. She limped back down the tunnel, the light from her lantern bobbing up and down, sending long, black shadows ahead of her.

The old-fashioned oil-lantern had been a god-send, as was the realisation that she still had a lighter on her. She didn’t smoke, but Mike did – and the mere thought made angry tears prickle at the corners of her eyes again. _God, I’m such an idiot. And a pathetic one at that. Carrying a lighter on the off-chance he might need to borrow one._

 _Not the only pathetic thing you’ve ever done in the name of this crush,_ her brain reminded her helpfully. _Like say, being so desperate for his attention and affection that you’d believe a dubious note left in the kitchen during an alcohol-soaked party where anyone could find it, including said guy’s girlfriend._

Hannah’s cheeks burned with humiliation and she cringed away from the mere memory of it. She had been so naïve. _What did you believe had happened, Hannah? That Mike had broken up with Emily in the ten minutes he had been out of the room? Because if not, that would make him a cheater and you a terrible friend. And if he’d cheat on Emily, he’d cheat on you. Not to mention, the note made no mention of anything other than sex. What, did you think your non-existent seduction skills would be enough to keep him with you? No. You were just pathetic enough to take whatever he offered you, no matter how little._

The truth, the truth that Hannah had avoided admitting to herself for so long, had settled in her chest like shards of glass. They made her chest ache with every breath, emotional pain in counterpoint to the physical pain jolting through her body with every step. _Mike will never love you_ , she told herself brutally. _And you behaved appallingly in pursuit of this doomed crush. However, he…also behaved badly,_ she admitted to herself, reluctantly. She was so used to defending him and glossing over his bad qualities, it was hard to do so even now. And to think it only took a near-death experience to reach this epiphany. _That ‘prank’ couldn’t have happened without him. And we were all at least tipsy, but it was still a horrible thing to do to me._

She reached a junction in the tunnel and turned down the right-hand fork. She had been using a soft, crumbly rock to scratch arrows on the walls, drawing them as big and as obviously as she could, pointing back to the cavern Beth was in. She paused to scratch a big ‘X’ on the wall next to the passageway she had just investigated, that had ended in a dead end.

“This place is like a fucking labyrinth,” Hannah muttered, setting off back in the direction of Beth. She had found herself swearing more in the last six days than she had in her entire life, but then again she was pretty sure this was the kind of situation swearing had been invented for. These tunnels were also the creepiest place she had ever been in her life. When they weren’t being eerily silent, Hannah often thought she could hear a screeching sound in the far distance. It kindled an instinctive terror in her that had her straining her ears to try and pinpoint where it was coming from, but it also happened infrequently enough that it had her doubting it existed anywhere outside of her imagination.

She took longer than she liked to reach ‘Home Base’ as she had mentally dubbed it. But then, she hadn’t eaten for six days either. The realisation that she was gradually weakening had been a frightening one; her limbs trembled with more than pain now. She became tired more quickly, her head felt lighter and she was achingly, constantly, aware of how empty her stomach was.

The need for water had become an absolute priority after the second day too. She was aware of the rule of three; three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food.  She wasn’t sure how accurate this was, but frankly, she’d take any survival tips she could get right now.

Not to mention her mouth had been as dry as a desert – a child could have deduced that she desperately needed water. She had found it eventually too, in the form of an underground lake with an old-fashioned water-wheel.  The water had been as black as pitch and mirror-still. The sight had raised all the hairs on the back of Hannah’s arms, something indescribably eerie about it. She hadn’t wanted to drink it at all, actually, but the demands of her parched throat had taken precedence over superstitious fear. _Well, it probably wasn’t very clean water, so there might well have been reason to be wary. But if I’ve contracted some kind of water-borne disease, at least I’ll hopefully live long enough to have it treated back in civilisation._

Hannah had again had a small stroke of luck, finding a couple of ancient canteens whose former owners had probably been miners.  They were also likely not very sanitary but they were all she had. She had carefully carried them back to Beth and patiently dribbled miniscule amounts of water into her unresponsive sister’s mouth. She was pretty sure coma patients were normally hydrated through intravenous drips – for there was no denying by now that that was what Beth was – but her twin had only Hannah’s crude attempts to keep water in her system to support her.

That sort of thought was terrifying enough that Hannah tried to avoid thinking it altogether; it would only cause a completely unhelpful breakdown and she had no energy to spare at the moment for a hysterical fit.

Hannah sighed as she finally emerged out of the tunnel into Home Base. The light quality had changed again; night had fallen while she had been trying (again) to find a way out of the tunnels. She paused to scratch another tally mark on the Counting Rock, marking the end of the sixth day.

“Tomorrow will make it a whole week, Beth,” she said quietly, lifting her voice to carry to her sister’s motionless form, still lying on the cavern floor. She limped over to Beth’s side. Despite the brace, her knee was definitely getting worse, probably because she wasn’t resting it. Hannah sat down gracelessly and wriggled under the one jacket they had been them, tucking herself carefully into her sister’s side, anxiously to both share and give body heat.  She had no idea if this was the best thing to do or not and the not knowing was killing her. _Along with the cold and lack of food,_ she thought, morbidly amused. _If I get out of this, I swear I’m going to learn everything there is to know about surviving in the wild. And first aid._

Hannah stroked her sister’s arm, pretending that it was just an affectionate gesture, that she wasn’t checking for a pulse. It had become an almost obsessive-compulsive gesture, a desperate need to reassure herself that her sister hadn’t slipped away when she’d been gone.

Hannah hated having to leave Beth, even to try and find a way out of the mine. Only the knowledge that Beth was less and less likely to recover the longer they were trapped underground away from proper medical facilities, made her able to leave her sister’s side at all.

“I wish I could remember,” Hannah mused aloud, brushing her fingers absently over Beth’s wrist. “What happened six nights ago, I mean.” Her memories from before they went over the cliff were a confused blur and she was pretty sure it was because she had hit her head at some point during the fall too. She could remember darkness and snow and a great bloom of fire, searing light etching itself across her retinas. She could recall feeling sickening, overwhelming terror and fleeing for her life with Beth at her side. An awful shrieking scream that had grated against her ears. She remembered Beth’s fingers on her wrist in a death-grip, as they both dangled over the edge of the cliff, and looking up to see a strange bulky humanoid figure looking down at them, eyes like black mirrors, shining with reflected light…

“Yeah, either I hit my head, or someone spiked the booze at the party,” Hannah muttered against Beth’s side. Her only reply was the faint sound of her twin’s breathing, which was frankly a comforting reply in its own right at this point.

Hannah curled up tighter against Beth, trying to not to disturb her in any way but still seeking the comfort of her presence. Tears pricked her eyes but she blinked them back. Crying was a useless waste of water. “I hope you wake up soon, Beth,” she whispered and closed her eyes, trying to go to sleep. Like every other night in these wretched, cursed mines, it was a long time coming.

xxx

 _What I really need,_ Hannah reflected as she stared at yet another dead-end, _is a more inventive range of curse words._

She didn’t have adequate words for how frustrated she was right now. _Bet Josh could set me up,_ she thought grumpily, turning to retrace her steps. _He would know how to properly express frustrated rage in as obnoxious a verbal manner as possible._

She continued to grumble away to herself internally, aware on some level that this was a coping mechanism, but unwilling to acknowledge it. Acknowledging it would mean acknowledging what she was avoiding, and right now, she really didn’t want to think about the acidic terror eating at her soul, the insidious voice curling through the deep waters of her mind, its whispering growing ever louder; _you will never leave this place._

Hannah reached the main junction of the tunnel and paused to mark another ‘X’ on the wall next to the dead-end passage. She turned left –

– and came face to face with another person.

Absolute shock rooted her feet to the ground. Not ten metres away stood the bulky figure of a man. He wore a long, dark green overcoat and had a bizarre set of metal canisters strapped to his back in some kind of harness. He held something that vaguely resembled a power-washer gun – attached to the canisters by a hosepipe-type thing – with an easy two-handed grip. However, the faint blue flame and the ripple of heat emitting from the end of the gun spoke volumes about the actual nature of the device.

 _Is that an actual fucking flamethrower? Who even carries a flamethrower?_  Hannah’s brain tumbled around nonsensically, even as a smaller, steadily growing part of her was giddy with an almost hysterical joy. _A person, an actual honest-to-God person, someone’s found me, if I’m not hallucinating this, I might be, I mean who carries a flamethrower, oh my God, Beth, Beth, Beth, I need to tell him, we need to get her out of here  –_

She stumbled forward two steps, on shaky, coltish legs, and only then got a closer look at his face. Or rather, didn’t.  A black-and-white patterned scarf covered the lower half of his face and his eyes…his eyes were covered by round black goggles...

_...she remembered Beth’s fingers on her wrist in a death-grip, as they both dangled over the edge of the cliff, a strange bulky humanoid figure looking down at them, eyes like black mirrors, shining with reflected light…_

The bottom fell out of Hannah’s stomach and she came to an abrupt halt. _Oh God._ She was vaguely aware of making a whimpering sound but that was secondary to the icy fear condensing into a ball in the pit of her stomach. _Oh God, this is the guy that chased us over the cliff – I wasn’t tripping, I didn’t see a monster, just a masked man carrying a flamethrower –_

Her fear impossibly doubled at the reminder. _A fucking flamethrower, oh God, he came back to finish the job, he’s going to burn us to death –_

Exhaustion caused by injury and lack of food burned away under the sudden flood of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She saw the stranger start forward, apparently shaking off his own surprise at seeing her but didn’t wait for any further moves on his part. She turned on her heel and fled back down the tunnel, even as he called after her in a low, urgent undertone, “ _Wait!”_

 _Not likely,_ Hannah thought, forcing back a hysterical laugh. She ran, her mind racing to come up with a plan. She had to lead him away from Beth – on no account could she lead him straight back to her vulnerable comatose sister. Her only chance was to lose him in the maze of tunnels down here; the only downside was that she would likely get lost herself down here too if she wasn’t stopping to follow her arrows –

Her arrows. _Shit._ Her heart was suddenly pounding even faster with renewed terror. If he found them, they would lead him straight to Beth. _Shit, shit, shit!_ Her thoughts circled in panicked fashion. Even if she lost him down here, he would probably be able to retrace his steps – he clearly knew his way around these tunnels, if he’d descended from the surface and was confident he could navigate his way out. And retracing his steps would take him through the area she had been mapping with her arrows. _Oh God, what do I do, what do I do –_

Hannah tasted blood and realised she’d bitten her lip hard enough to break the skin. She could feel her reasoning and planning abilities breaking down under panic and exhaustion.    The burst of adrenaline was already starting to recede, and her tired body was letting her know in no uncertain terms she was far too injured and lacking in fuel to be spending this much energy on flight.

 _Beth. I have to get to Beth._ Her mind latched onto to the fall-back plan. _I’ll pick her up and carry her out if I have to – like Superman,_ her brain added nonsensically. _It’s better than waiting for some crazy psychopath to find us and burn us alive._

She could hear the sounds of his pursuit, the sound of footsteps and the clank of metal muffled by fabric, and poured on all the speed she could muster, even though her ruined knee was screaming by now. Hannah darted through a set of confusing tunnel junctions that she’d mastered on the fourth day, hoping it was enough to slow him, and burst into Home Base. She half-limped, half-ran to Beth’s side, falling to the floor beside her in a manner far less controlled than she would have liked.

Of course, it was then, to her absolute horror, that her bad knee gave out completely. “ _No!”_ she cried, trying desperately to rise from the ground. Her left leg was nearly completely unresponsive; it wasn’t just agonisingly painful, which she could have pushed through, but so weak it actually wasn’t supporting her weight.

A faint noise behind her made Hannah twist around, in time to witness the stranger enter their spacious cavern. He appeared to scan the area, although it was difficult to tell with the goggles hiding his eyes. Then his gaze snagged on the pair of girls on the floor on the far side of the room and he started jogging towards them.

“No, no, no, no –” Hannah was barely aware of chanting this aloud, as she shuffled backwards on her hands towards Beth, abject terror clouding her thoughts.

“Shh, shh, shh,” the stranger extended a placating hand towards her. “ _Quiet_ …”

“Fuck you,” Hannah snapped in a choked voice, equal parts fear and anger. Her head spun dizzily, feeling lighter than ever and she was excruciatingly aware that she hadn’t eaten in eleven days. Her hands touched the familiar fabric of Beth’s jacket behind her and she halted. This was it. There was nowhere else to retreat to, and even if she could run, she wouldn’t have. Not without Beth.  And no matter that it was futile, and that Beth would likely die right after her, Hannah wasn’t going let this crazy pyromaniac kill her sister. Not while she was still had breath in her body to defend her comatose twin.

She stopped moving, trying to block as much of Beth’s body as she could with her own, and glared up at him, trying to ignore the fear beating a rapid tattoo in her throat. “Do it, then. If you’re going to kill us, just do it.”

The stranger paused his advance for a moment, his body language radiating surprise. Then he spoke in a normal tone for the first time. "I don't mean to hurt you or your sister, girl." His voice was gruff and no-nonsense. "I've spent the last eleven days putting a lot of effort into _finding_ you. I'm not gonna waste that by killing you. At least,” his head turned slightly, light reflecting off the lenses of his goggles as he seemed to look at Beth’s prone form with a considering gaze. “I won’t if you don’t give me a reason to anyways.”

Hannah glared at him, utterly disbelieving. “Yeah, right. And what do you consider justification for killing someone then?” Her hands shook with both fear and anger, and she clenched them into fists to hide the tremors.

He surprised her by giving a sudden harsh chuckle. “Not so much a question of someone, as _something_.”

Hannah shook her head. “What are you saying? That doesn’t make any sense!” She felt herself sway a little, her vision darkening at the edges.  The light-headed feeling intensified as her empty stomach clenched and her injured leg throbbed agonisingly. “You chased us off that fucking cliff! You wanted us to die!” Her own words sounded distant and far away.

The stranger snorted. “Are you blind, girl? It wasn’t me that –” His voice changed abruptly mid-way through the sentence. “What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know,” Hannah said, or tried to. It might have come out more garbled she had intended. _I’m going to faint,_ she realised with distant surprise. _How horribly stereotypical._

She pitched forwards face-first as the darkness rushed in and stole her consciousness, completely unaware of the arms that caught her before she could hit the ground.


	2. Spiritual Guidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I’d outline exactly where the AU element (butterfly effect :P) kicks in; basically, as you know, after the fall Beth is in a coma instead of dead, but Hannah’s leg is also badly twisted instead of broken. These two factors combine to give Hannah both the motivation and the means to try harder to find a way out of the mines than she did in canon (my headcanon for what happened down there anyway), as she has a sister in desperate need of help and is more able to move around and explore the mines. This leads to her managing to venture further away from where she and Beth fell in and closer to the surface; this in turn leads to her bumping into the Stranger, whom I also headcanon as definitely looking for Hannah and Beth after their fall. (I noticed that as much as he’s gruff and not very impressed with the teens, he does go out of his way to save them. And protect them from their own stupidity. (I’m looking at you Chris. xD Even if the sentiment was admirable, going to rescue Josh when the wendigos were hanging about outside your door was pretty stupid.)) In canon, Hannah doesn’t bump into the Stranger because she doesn’t make it close enough to the surface to meet him. :) So yeah. For anyone who was interested, some extra info. xD
> 
> P.S. Realised on my last playthrough that Beth is actually the younger twin; I had to go back and adjust the last chapter. I guess I assumed Beth was older because she seems very practical next to Hannah’s more naïve personality. Although in this fic, the last eleven days have given that a big knock and forced her to acknowledge some hard truths *cough*Mike*cough* and to step up and assume the role of protector for Beth, instead of the other way around.

When Hannah woke again, the first thing she noticed before opening her eyes was that it was slightly less cold.

 _What...?_ She instinctively reached out a hand in search of her sister’s comforting presence beside her, before her groggy brain finally caught up with what had happened just before she had fallen unconscious.

“ _Beth!”_ she cried, flying upright.

Her shout echoed in the vast room and she looked around in surprise. She appeared to be in a grand derelict old building of some kind – the ceiling and walls were in poor repair and the floor was littered with chunks of rubble. Daylight filtered down through a grimy skylight three storeys above and the second floor balcony that wrapped around three-quarters of the room had crumbled away entirely in some places.

There were also a set of three alcoves underneath the balcony on both the left and right hand sides of the room; Hannah realised she was sitting in first of the alcoves on the right-hand side, judging by the angle she was looking out at the room from. This was immediately followed by the far more disturbing realisation that there was in fact a wire-mesh fence across the mouth of each of the alcoves, completely closing them off. The only way out was through a gate set into the fence – and each gate was secured by a heavy padlock.

 _I’m sitting in a cage,_ Hannah realised, horror creeping over her. She tried to scramble to her feet but white-hot pain shot through her bad knee and she collapsed back to the floor…the soft, squishy floor.

Hannah blinked, looking down in surprise. She was sitting on a mattress. A faded, stained, battered, sorry-looking excuse for a mattress certainly, but surprisingly comfortable. _Frankly, it feels like sitting on a cloud after sleeping on the floor of a cave for the last eleven days._

A worn-looking blanket was half-on and half-off the mattress, where it clearly fallen after she had tried to jump to her feet. A small bowl of what looked like porridge sat on top of a nearby crate, along with a thermos flask.  And just past that…

Hannah made a strangled, horrified noise. A bloody haunch of some kind of meat sat on a ragged, dark green plastic sheet, still leaking slowly.  She all but fell over backwards, scuttling backwards on her hands in her haste to get away from the raw, bloody meat. “ _Oh my God, what the hell, what the hell –”_

She only stopped when her back hit the chain-link, the metal rattling as she collided with it. She stared wide-eyed at the leg of…whatever it was, breathing heavily as she fought against the shock and fright. _Why the hell is that even here? What kind of psycho…_

 _Oh, I don’t know, Hannah; maybe the kind of psycho that would chase you off a cliff, kidnap you and imprison you in a crumbling ruin._ She bit her lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. _Oh God, I don’t know what to do…_

Then, as they so often did now, her thoughts returned to Beth and she jumped like she’d been given an electric shock. “Beth!” She was aghast she had forgotten, even for a moment. Grabbing on the wire-mesh, she used it to haul herself to her feet, careful to keep the weight off her bad leg. She peered out though the fence, trying to see as much of the room as possible. “Beth?” she called, somewhat hopelessly. Her sister could lying somewhere just outside her line of vision and she’d never know. And it wasn’t likely that Beth had woken in the short time she’d been unconscious.

 _If she’s even still alive,_ a horrible little voice whispered in the back of her mind. _That maniac could have killed her by now._

“Shut up,” Hannah snapped at herself. “Just shut up.” Her fingers tightened on the wire-mesh. _Don’t think like that, Hannah. Just don’t._

Somewhere nearby, there was the screech of rusted hinges and the rattle of chain-links. Hannah froze, caught somewhere between terror and anticipation. Heavy footsteps echoed around the high-ceilinged room and then the stranger walked into her field of vision, across the centre of the room into a small, loose circle of sofas and tables. He looked exactly the same; she didn’t know why she expected him to be different. As if she had hoped hunger and exhaustion had blurred and exaggerated her memories of how intimidating he was.

The thought of her hunger made her aware of exactly how empty her stomach still was and suddenly all she could think of was the bowl of porridge behind her, her stomach contracting painfully.

“You’ll want to stay off that leg.”

Hannah jerked at the sound of his voice, startled, and her fingers spasmed on the wire-mesh. He appeared to be looking at her, although it was difficult to tell with the goggles in the way. Between those and the scarf, it was impossible to work out what his expression was, but his tone had been vaguely irritated.

 “It’s damaged enough without you walkin’ on it more,” he added, in much the same tone.

“Where’s my sister?” The question spilled out without any prompting from her brain, and Hannah clutched at the fence, her knuckles white. “ _Where is she?_ ”

“Right where we left her, I reckon,” the stranger drawled. “Unless she’s had a miraculous recovery in the last half hour or so.”

“You _left_ her down there?” Hannah said, incredulity and horror mixing in her voice. _But why wouldn’t he? He’s a maniac remember? Why would he rescue someone?_ A little voice in her head piped up. _He took **me** from the mine, _ another part of her brain argued. _I thought he would retrieve both of us, even it was only to – to torment us, or torture us or something –_

“Of course I left her – how many arms do you think I have, girl?” The stranger sounded grumpy. “Stop complain’. I’m goin’ back for her now.”

Hannah sagged against the fence, overwhelmed by relief. “Thank you,” she said shakily. “Thank you.” It didn’t matter for this second that she was locked in a cage or that she still had no idea what this man wanted with them; all that mattered was that her little sister wasn’t going to die alone in the dark, down in those awful mines.

“Hmph,” the stranger snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. We still have to make it back.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Hannah retorted without thinking, still shaking slightly. _You clearly have no problem navigating in the wild or finding your way around that mine._

The man regarded her steadily. “Y’really don’t remember what happened.”  He shook his head. “Well, that’ll make things harder.” Turing away, he gave a piercing whistle and there was the sudden sound of claws clattering on concrete.

Hannah’s eyes widened as a pair of _wolves_ loped into view, one black, one grey. She was torn between the sudden fear cramping her stomach and the joyful internal reaction of ten-year-old Hannah who had been _obsessed_ with wolves and had wanted a pet one practically since birth. _That’s all well and good, but they’re **his** pet wolves and I really don’t want to be fed to them._

She backed away hastily from the fence as he barked a gruff command. “Stay! On guard.” The grey wolf padded away from the other one and sat down in front of her cage, his eyes still on his master. The stranger nodded and turned to leave, the black wolf at his side. She watched, dry-mouthed, as the big door swung shut behind them with an echoing boom. Then she looked down to see amber eyes looking back up at her and she fought a startled twitch.

“Ha…guess it’s just you and me,” Hannah said uncertainly.

The wolf huffed out a breath and lay down, resting his great head on his paws.

“Okay.” Hannah felt a little foolish, talking to the wolf as if he could understand her. But she’d always been like that with animals. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, suddenly aware that she was cold now that she wasn’t focused on other things. She carefully limped back to the mattress and lowered herself slowly down, her leg jolting with pain every step of the way. She drew the blanket around her shoulders, tucking it in as much as she could to keep the heat in.

Her stomach cramped painfully again, with hunger this time, and her gaze flew to the bowl of porridge. Now that she was aware of it, suddenly all she could think about was the fierce pain in her empty stomach. Awkwardly, she shuffled the length of the mattress on her hands and reached for the bowl with shaking fingers.

 _Don’t eat too quickly. Small bites._ Beth’s voice suddenly echoed in her head and Hannah remembered when she had been sick with flu and unable to eat for three days. She had been ravenous on the fourth day and had tried to eat a full meal; her stomach had immediately rejected so much food after so little and she’d thrown it all up again.

Hannah groaned but did her best to ignore her gurgling stomach, scooping up only a minuscule amount of porridge. It was cold, bland and near tasteless; it was the best thing that had ever touched her taste buds. To her embarrassment, tears sprang to the corners of her eyes. _What a ridiculous thing to cry over._

To distract herself, she reached for the thermos flask, doing her best to ignore the nausea-inducing sight of the bloody haunch of meat not far away. Unscrewing it, she took a cautious sniff. It wasn’t whisky or some other spirit, like she had been half-expecting. Instead the clean, fresh scent of water wafted out and she almost cried again. It was the exact opposite of the horrible, brackish black water in the mines.

Carefully, Hannah took a sip of that too, revelling in the taste. It had a slight after-tang she didn’t recognise but that was probably because she’d never drank from any of the streams on this mountain. It was likely the minerals or rock particles in the water. _I vaguely remember something like that from Geography…hard water and soft water right?_

Her brain trailed off into white noise and she sat quietly, just taking tiny bites and sips at periodic intervals. _I will never take this simple pleasure for granted ever again._

Her spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl and she set it aside, along with the thermos. Her stomach – not full but no longer crying out – was happy for the first time in days. Her left leg still burned like fire but she could almost ignore it, now that it was the only complaint that her body had. Hannah yawned, feeling tiredness creeping up on her. She lay down and curled up on the mattress, pulling the blanket over herself. She felt a brief but acute pang of longing for the warm weight of her sister beside her, and then she was gone, slipping into sleep.

xxx

Hannah wasn’t sure what woke her but suddenly she was conscious, surfacing out of a black, dreamless sleep. The wolf outside her cell was standing up, head cocked and ears pricked.

Then the door swung open and the flamethrower guy strode in, the black wolf at his heels and feeling unhappy if the low key growling and bared teeth were anything to judge by.

But Hannah didn’t have eyes for anything but the sight of her unconscious twin in the man’s arms, her face pale and serene. “Beth!” she cried, lurching to her feet and nearly falling as she accidently put weight on her bad leg. She managed to prop herself against the fence before she took another tumble. “Is she okay?!” she called frantically. _Please let her be okay!_

The stranger glanced over at her. “No worse than before,” he said gruffly, still crossing the length of the room. The grey wolf outside her cell bristled as he got closer and started growling quietly as well. Oddly enough, the wolf’s eyes seemed fixed on Beth but Hannah couldn’t think of a reason why; some distant part of brain of her brain dedicated to noticing unimportant details noted that Beth was clearly not a threat to its territory or food or anything like that.

“Wait, where are you going?” Hannah called, realising that he was aiming for another door on the other side of the room. “Please, let me see my sister!” Her voice cracked and she might have been embarrassed by the pleading in her voice if this hadn’t been so important.

He threw another unreadable glance and kept walking. “There’s nothing you can do that will help her, girl.” His voice was gruff but not unsympathetic. “Stay put, rest your leg, and let me do my job.”

The fear tasted like acid in Hannah’s mouth as she watched him negotiate the door while holding her sister, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the fence. “What are you going to do?” The chain-link door rattled shut behind him. “ _Where are you taking her, you freak?!”_

The only answer was the echo of her frightened voice, bouncing back from the crumbling walls.

xxx

_Hannah, her face smudged with dirt, peering out through a wire-mesh fence –_

_Beth, her face smooth and untroubled in sleep, surrounded by strange symbols etched on a concrete floor –_

_Hannah, hobbling through a rocky tunnel, sobbing for breath and looking over her shoulder –_

Josh woke with a gasp, his heart pounding. Hands shaking, he groped for the light switch. A moment later comforting yellow light flooded the hotel room, banishing the darkness. He blinked around, still disorientated and trembling both with remembered terror and unneeded adrenaline.

 _Fuck._ He screwed up his face and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Fuck,” he said aloud. The rough sound of his own voice was steadying. _These dreams are too fucking much._

Their realism was frightening actually. It felt more like watching clips from movies in HD in his head. He could remember them all, crystal-clear, with none of the absurdity that dreams normally possessed.

He threw back the covers and paced over to the window, snatching up his phone as he went. He sent off a quick Facebook message to Sam as he gazed out into the darkness.

_U awake?_

He worried at his lip, staring out unseeingly at Blackwood; the little town was still slumbering. It was only 3am after all. His parents had chivvied them all down the mountain and into a hotel at the nearby little town after their statements had been given, out of the way of the police and the mountain search and rescue teams.  

 _And they haven’t found a goddamn thing,_ Josh thought bitterly. _Twelve d_ _ays and they haven’t found **anything.**_ _What is the fucking point of Dad and Mom having so much money if it can’t even protect us –_

His phone chirped, breaking him out of his steadily blackening mood (although it had been nothing but black for the last twelve days, so not much fucking difference there) and he looked at the screen. A wave of relief washed over him. Sam.

_Yes. Can’t sleep._

Sam was the only member of the group he could stand to be around at the moment, aside from Chris. She loved Hannah and Beth so much, and hadn’t taken part in the prank ( _a fucking **prank** –fucking **cruelty** is what I call it, I hope Mike’s jaw still aches_ ) but she still felt tremendously guilty.

_“I’m sorry, Josh. I couldn’t find Hannah in time to warn her.” Her hazel eyes were miserable as she looked down at her lap. Her fingers shook on her mug of tea. “I should have gone with Beth to look for her…”_

_“And then you might be missing too, Sammy,” Josh said evenly, his heart lurching at the idea. The thought of her being missing on top of his sisters was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat._

_“I still should have gone.” Sam’s nails bit into her palm. “Fuck, I should have gone with her…”_

_“Well, I shouldn’t have been so fucking drunk.” Josh felt the black self-loathing rise up within himself at the thought. He had been wasted, passed out when his little sisters had needed him most._

_Sam looked up, startled. “Josh, you can’t blame yourself for that. You couldn’t have known.”_

_Josh laughed mirthlessly. Oh, he could definitely blame himself. “By that logic, Sammy, you can’t blame yourself either. You didn’t know they wouldn’t…wouldn’t come back…” his voice faltered and he shut up abruptly before his voice did some embarrassing, like break._

_A hand touched his arm, gently, tentatively, like she wasn’t sure comfort would be well-received. Josh blinked rapidly, staring off into the distance, as Sam kept her hand on his, warm and reassuring even as her mug of tea cooled, forgotten on the floorboards._

Josh’s phone started vibrating in his hand and he jumped a little. Sam’s picture was flashing onscreen and he answered the call, annoyed with himself that he had zoned out and forgotten to message back.

“Hey. You okay?” Her familiar voice was a balm to his ragged nerves. “You didn’t reply.” He could hear the thread of concern in her tone, although she strove for a normalcy with a lighter tone.

“Yeah. Just – just couldn’t sleep either.” His thoughts flashed back to the reason he was awake.

“The dreams again?” Sam sounded a little worried now.

“Yeah. Every time I manage to doze off for five minutes.” He exhaled deeply. “I know it sounds nuts, Sam, but I _keep_ dreaming about them. Underground mostly, in some kind of rocky tunnels, although I’ve seen Hannah in a ruined building of some kind too, in what looks like a fucking _cage_. And – and I’d ignore it as stress, or grief, or _whatever,_ but they’re just so _clear_ , Sam. It’s – it’s…” he hesitated and then plunged on. Sam wouldn’t laugh at him. “It’s like a vision or some ridiculous movie bullshit like that.”

There was a silence for a few seconds. Then Sam said, her tone even, “Okay. What do you want to do about it?”

“Go back.” The response was so immediate Josh wasn’t even aware that was what he was going to say until the words were already out of his mouth. But they felt right and he felt a sudden surge of confidence and resolve. “I want to go back and look for Hannah and Beth.”

“Then I’m coming with you.” Sam’s reply was immediate and firm. She didn’t try to talk him out of it, or suggest that they should leave it to the professionals, and he loved her all the more for it. _Yeah, now if you could only tell **her** that, you pussy. _ Josh pushed the thought away, ignoring it as best he could. So what if he had a massive, unrequited crush on his little sister’s best friend?

“Okay. Okay. Get –” There was a swift fluttering movement in his peripheral vision and he started in surprise as a butterfly landed on the glass next to his head. He stared in surprise. _Must have been woken from its chrysalis early by the heat in the hotel or something._

“Josh?” Sam spoke in his ear.

“Yeah, sorry, got distracted by something for a second. Get your stuff together, anything you need, and then we’ll leave.”

“Right now?” She didn’t sound like she was protesting, merely inquiring as to his plan.

“Yeah. It’s 3am, there’s less people around to make a fuss. AKA Mom and Dad. And it’s not like I need help to operate the cable car.” He watched the butterfly, oddly mesmerised as it slowly opened and shut its wings. They were a striking canary-yellow; he’d never seen a butterfly like it. “And there’s no time to waste.”

_Hannah and Beth have no time to waste. Hang on, guys. We’re coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one, it fought me all the way. And then I sat down and finished it in one sitting. xD Brilliant.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading this; please leave a review if you did. :) Or even if you didn’t. xD I’d like to know where I’m going right, or wrong.
> 
> P.S. It was so weird writing ‘Mom’ for Josh; had to go back and correct it from ‘Mum’ when I remembered that he wouldn’t talk like that. xD


	3. Hunger Pangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, sorry about the delay. Now that university’s done, apart from my dissertation, I’ve got the ball rolling on this fic again. I appreciate your support and patience!

Hannah woke suddenly, startled by a loud noise in her vicinity. She had fallen asleep against the chain-link fence waiting for the stranger to return – she hadn’t intended to sleep at all, but lingering exhaustion and the hours passing had gotten the better of her.

She groaned as she tried to sit up a little more. Sleeping like this had given her a crick in her neck, and her leg was screaming again from lying in an awkward position.

Another metallic screech cut through the air, making her jump even as she realised that it was the same noise that had woken her. Hannah glanced through the mesh fence across the room and realised that night had fallen at some point. The skylight was dark, showing the night sky – it must be cloudy, she noted absently, because there were no visible stars. The cavernous room was lit by a roaring fire in a big hearth near the circle of tables and sofas, throwing warm gold-orange light across them and softening the edges of the derelict hall. Elsewhere, little pools of golden candlelight banished the clinging darkness, along with the sharper white light of electric lanterns.

Then Hannah’s gaze found the stranger standing at what had once been an altar and part of her brain made the connection between the metallic screech that had woken her, and the rusty gate at the far end of the hall; the rest of her mind was abruptly overwhelmed with everything that had happened just before she had fallen asleep, and terror made her chest tighten painfully. _Beth, where is Beth –_

“Hey,” she called. Her voice came out as a hoarse croak, and she coughed, embarrassed by how frail it made her sound, before clearing her throat and trying again. “Hey!”

He straightened and turned towards her, a black silhouette outlined in the stark white light of the lantern behind him. “What is it, girl?” His gruff voice carried in the big, echoing hall.

“My sister.” Hannah tried to make her voice as firm as she could, even though he frightened her, even though a small part of her was crying that it was too late, Beth was most likely already dead. “Where is my sister?”

A sigh drifted over to her. “Persistent one, aren’t ya?”                                           

“Yes.” By some miracle, Hannah’s voice didn’t wobble and betray her lie. She’s never been a persistent person; shy, especially with people she doesn’t know, and far more likely to go with the flow than anything else. But this was _Beth_ ; Beth, her fiery, fierce opposite, her beloved twin, and Hannah will be fierce _for_ her, while her sister is unable.  “Where is my sister?”

He sighed more deeply and she heard him mutter under his breath, “…preserve me from stubborn kids…” He stepped off the altar and began walking towards her, boots echoing off the concrete floor; Hannah scrambled back from the fence in alarm, pushing herself shakily to her feet and keeping all her weight on her uninjured leg.

He stopped in front of the gate to her cell, stepping into the pool of white light there, and she was startled to see that he had tugged down his goggles and scarf, revealing his face for the first time. Old was her first impression, augmented by the grey of his hair; maybe somewhere in his fifties she guessed, and no less intimidating for it, especially when you factored in the three scars running from just above his right eyebrow to the top of the corresponding cheekbone. The injury had clearly damaged his eye too, leaving it white and milky-looking.

“Your sister is downstairs,” he stated gruffly. “And in a no worse state than before. No better neither,” he added. “I bandaged the wound on the back of her head but that’s not likely to make her wake any faster.”

Hannah blinked, nonplussed, and catching her expression, he gave a mirthless chuckle. “Believe or not, girl, I’m trying to help you both.”

“Then why am I in a _cage_?” Hannah burst out, her chest tight with a mixture of anger and fear. “Why won’t you let me see my sister?”

His gaze moved behind her, taking in the scraped-clean porridge bowl, and further back, the untouched bloody haunch of raw meat on the plastic sheet. “I had to make sure,” he answered cryptically. “I didn’t think you’d given in, but you _had_ been down in those mines for a while; better safe than sorry.”

“Make sure of _what?_ ” Hannah asked, confused. “And what have the mines to do with anything?”

“A great deal,” he said, and then seemingly randomly, “You still hungry?”

Hannah floundered for a moment at the sudden change in direction,“Er, I –”

Then as if on cue, her stomach gurgled and she went pink. “Yeah. A bit. I don’t think I can eat much more than the amount you left for me before though. Thanks for that by the way,” she added unsurely. She wasn’t sure what the protocol was for when someone rescued you from certain death by starvation and fed you, but also kept you captive afterwards. She realised that he still hadn’t answered her question properly either – about _why_ he was keeping her in a cage – and opened her mouth to ask, when she was distracted by the distinctive sound of a lock clicking open.

“Don’t mention it,” the stranger said gruffly, as he unhooked the padlock from the gate to her cell, before sliding the bolt free. “Figured you’d be hungry either way.” He gestured over to the fire. “There’s more if you want it.”

“Okay…?” Her uncertainty makes it come out as a question, and she watches in a mixture of surprise and disbelief as the door to her cell swings open with a screech of rusty hinges.

He raises an eyebrow at her hovering. “Thought you wanted out?”

“Yeah, I –” Hannah faltered. “I – I didn’t actually expect you to let me out just like that.”

The stranger snorted and turned away. “I’m not a monster, girl. And not that I know you’re not either, you’re welcome to come out and join me.”

“I – what?” Hannah asked, completely bewildered. “A monster?” _What is he talking about?_ Ice slid down her spine as the thought occurred to her that maybe he was not entirely sane. _Living all alone up here in a derelict ruin with only wolves for company…maybe the isolation’s got to him._

“Don’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me anyway,” he sounded exasperated as he walked away across the room, a very slight limp evident in his gait.

“What did you mean?” she insisted, hobbling carefully through the doorway of her cell, grabbing the wall for support. Her leg shrieked in protest but she was determined to make it to the sofa by the fire. She wasn’t going to stay in a cage for a minute longer than she had to. “Please tell me. I promise I’ll listen,” she added.

He chuckled. “You say that now, but I’ve tried to tell folks before, and no one ever believes me. Not until it’s too late anyway.”

 _Well, that’s not ominous at all._ Hannah frowned. “I’ll listen,” she said as firmly as she could. “I can’t promise I’ll believe you either, but I’ll hear you out.”

“You will, will you? How generous.” He had his back to her as he walked into one of the other alcoves under the balcony but his voice sounded darkly amused, and she flushed in embarrassment.

“Well, it can’t be anything worse than anything I’ve already thought about you,” she snapped, stress and embarrassment making her words blunter than she’d intended. She immediately flushed an even brighter red and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry –”

But she was cut off by his chuckling. “Like what? Psycho? Murderer? Yeah, I can tell you don’t like me much, girl.”

“Well, how would you feel if you were chased off a cliff, and the only thing you can remember is fire and screaming and a weird-looking guy with a flamethrower, and then that same guy finds you underground days later and then you wake up in a _cage_ ,” Hannah said defensively, carefully making her around a small table. She reached the sofa by the fire and breathed out a quiet sigh of relief, lowering herself slowly onto the old, worn cushions.

“Hmm. I suppose I wouldn’t be too inclined to trust him, if I were in your shoes.” The grudging reply comes drifting over to her.

Hannah huffed a little, carefully settling her leg to aggravate it as little as possible. “Will you please just tell me?” she asked, a touch of pleading in her voice. “Why did you thought I might be a – a monster?” The idea sounded nuts even as she said it.

He sighed deeply. “I suppose. But don’t blame me when you don’t like what you hear,” he warned.

“Okay,” Hannah said nervously, picking at her nails. They were filthy, she noticed, in a distant kind of way. “I just want to _know_.”

He made his way back over to the circle of sofas and chairs and sat down opposite her. She realised that he’d taken off the flamethrower tanks at some point, although any comfort she may have gained from that was somewhat negated by the machete that she belatedly noticed was attached to his belt.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Listen up, girl. I’m only gonna say this once, so don’t go interrupting me. You can ask any questions you have at the end. Understand?”

Hannah nodded hastily, vowing to keep quiet. “I understand.”

“Okay.” The golden firelight flickered across his face, the ridged scars on his right eye casting it into shadow. “There is a curse that dwells in these here mountains…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s a relatively short one but the next chapter is already half done and this is where I wanted to break it up. :) I hope you enjoyed reading; if so, please let me know in a comment. ^_^


	4. There is No Black and White

Hannah focused very carefully on keeping her expression as blank as possible, as she listened to the man sitting across from her speak of cannibalistic spirits and impossible monsters and the terrible fate of a crew of miners trapped deep underground. She tried her best to keep her feelings from showing on her face, even as her heart sank. _Oh no…I hoped I was wrong, but he’s clearly not all there…_

But she couldn’t blame someone who was mentally ill for being deluded, or for hallucinations of monsters, or whatever it was he had – and locking her in a cage clearly made sense by the rules of his delusion.

“– and then twelve days ago, when I was hunting the Makkapitew, I realised it was hunting something else; you and your sister.”

Hannah jolted a little in her seat at that and he nodded grimly at her startled expression. “It drove you both to the cliff edge and you fell over, pulling your sister with you. I set it on fire when it was distracted and then tried to pull you up – but the branch your sister was holding broke at exactly that moment. You both fell.”

_A strange dark shape in the snow –_

_A brilliant burst of fire –_

_A bulky figure –_

_A hand outstretched –_

Hannah’s eyes went wide. _What the heck…?_ His words stirred something in her mind, triggering a memory…but it was as frustratingly vague as her previous recollection of that night. _I think he did try to help us though…but it couldn’t have been from a…a ‘wendigo’. It must have been a bear, or a mountain lion, or **something.**_

“Then I spent the next eleven days looking for you both. I knew the police and the search and rescue teams would never find you; the mines are too deep and confusing, not to mention dangerously unstable. No one wants to venture too far in – and ‘sides, they didn’t know you ended up there, they had a whole mountain to search. And then, of course, I found you both; you know the rest.” The stranger sat back in his seat as he came to the end of the story.

Hannah hugged her uninjured knee to her chest. “Why didn’t you tell the police you knew where we’d fallen?” she ventured cautiously.

He snorted. “Your parents and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye in the past, girl. I’m fairly sure they already consider me a suspect because I’ve tried to warn them off this mountain in the past. If I came forwards and told the police I was the last one to see their daughters before they disappeared – well, I’m sure you can do the math. Plus I know the mines better than anyone else still livin’, and I’d already decided to search for you both myself. Not to mention, that if one or both of you had resorted to cannibalism, you’d be my problem to deal with anyway.”

“Oh.” Hannah hugged her knee tighter, unnerved by the mere thought of him suggesting that she’d eat her twin, or vice versa. She pushed it away firmly and focused on the conversation. “Well…I suppose I should say thanks, in any case. We would have died twice over without you.”

The stranger examined her out of one sharp blue eye. The other shone milky in the firelight. “So you believe me then?” he asked, his tone laden with scepticism.

Hannah hesitated. “I believe that you weren’t trying to kill us, that you tried to save us at the cliff and that you did save us from starving to death in the mines.”

“And about the wendigos?” His tone clearly expected her to reply in the negative.

Hannah bit her lip. She didn’t want to upset him, both because he clearly believed what he was saying, and because she was still a bit afraid of him, even though she no longer thought he was the one to chase them over the cliff. “I…I believe that you believe what you’re saying is true,” she said carefully.

He barked a laugh. “That’s a no then. Well, I expected as much.” He pushed himself to his feet. “Consider yourself warned of the danger on this mountain then, girl.”

Hannah shrank back a little into the cushions. “Wait!” she called hastily, as he started to walk away.

He paused. “What?” he grumbled impatiently. “The wolves want their dinner too, and since you’ve so handily proved yourself human, that bit of venison in your cell will do nicely.”

“Ah,” Hannah hesitated, before taking the plunge and asking, “Are we free to go then? Since you’re satisfied we’re, ah, still human?” She had been distracted by his story, but some part of her had still been fretting away over Beth, lying unconscious ‘downstairs’ somewhere.

“No.”

“No?” Hannah exclaimed indignantly. “Why not?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m satisfied that _you’re_ still human. Your sister…not so much.”

Something very cold settled in Hannah’s chest and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. _Oh God, please no, he wouldn’t –_

But he would. She had seen the conviction in his eyes; he believed every word he said. If he thought Beth was a monster, he would kill her. _Tread carefully, tread carefully –_

Hannah took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm her suddenly pounding heart. “But that doesn’t make sense,” she said, as reasonably as she could, praying that he’d respond to logic. “Beth’s been unconscious since we fell into the mines. She couldn’t have eaten anyone.”

He shook his head. “It’s possible for someone to be possessed by a wendigo spirit without first eating human flesh – this usually happens when starvation sets in and the person can think of nothing but food. The spirit encourages your hunger, pushing you to give in and resort to cannibalism.”

“And you think that’s what’s happened to Beth.” Hannah’s heart sank. There was no way for her to disapprove that, since there was no way for her prove the existence of a spirit one way or another.

“I killed the Makkapitew that night, girl. It’s the biggest and strongest and most determined of the lot – I’ve no doubt it would’ve started looking for a new host immediately. And who better than the nearby pair of hungry humans trapped underground? Of course, it attached itself to the weaker spirit –”

“Beth’s not _weak_!” Hannah snapped, cutting him off in a rush of indignation on her twin’s behalf. “And she’s definitely far stronger than me.”

The stranger smirked. “Easy, girly. No offence meant to your sister; she’s in a coma and that makes her mind and spirit vulnerable, especially to possession. When she wakes – and I’ve no doubt it’ll be ‘when’ not ‘if’, what with her playing host to the Makkapitew – she will be consumed by her craving.”

Hannah’s fists clenched compulsively, knuckles whitening. “That can’t just be _it_!” she cried in frustration, underlain by real fear. If she couldn’t talk their way out of this… “There must be something we can do – can’t it be reversed?” she asked, desperately hopeful. _Surely, surely, there must be something that he believes is a cure for being a ‘wendigo’…_

“The process can’t be reversed if someone has consumed human flesh,” he said gruffly. “But you’re right enough, that the wendigo spirit can be dislodged if a person hasn’t yet turned to cannibalism. An exorcism of sorts.”

“That’s good then,” Hannah said hopefully, desperately. “You can do this exorcism thing – you know how to do it, right?”

“Yeah, I know how to do it, but don’t go getting your hopes up,” he warned. “It’s not always possible to force the wendigo spirit out – a lot relies on the willpower of the person it’s possessing. Not to mention, it’s gonna be doubly difficult because it’s the Makkapitew.”

Hannah breathed out, forcing her fists to unclench. “Okay,” she said stiffly. _Play along, Hannah._ _If it comes down to it, I’ll wait until he’s asleep and carry Beth out of here myself. Or climb down the mountain and get help, twisted knee be damned._ “Can I see my sister now?”

He raised a grey eyebrow at her, a quizzical expression on his face. “Why?”

“Why _not_?” Hannah burst out. “I – I need to see her, with my own eyes, to check –” _To check she’s not slipped away, that while I haven’t been paying attention her sleep hasn’t deepened into one she’ll never wake from._

For a moment, her mind was filled with the memory of eleven horrible mornings, waking on a cold, stone floor next to her comatose twin, each time seized by the heart-wrenching fear that this was the morning she would wake up next to a corpse. Her fingers twitched compulsively, instinctively reaching to check Beth’s pulse. She took a deep breath and banished the memory. “I need to see her,” she said firmly. “Even if it’s just to sit with her.”

The stranger regarded her speculatively. “And what good will that do?”

Hannah scowled at him. “It’ll make me feel better. And people in comas are supposed to be able to hear people talking to them, right? Plus, it’s not like I’m doing anything else, sitting around here with an injured leg.” _Plus plus, I need to know where she is if I’m going to get her out of here._

“Uh-huh.” His one good eye was sharp as he examined her face. Hannah felt herself break out in a cold sweat. _Oh God._ Beth and Josh had always teased her for having a very expressive face and she suddenly hoped fervently that none of her thoughts had been visible on it. “You wouldn’t be thinking of carrying your sister out of here, now would you?” he asked rhetorically. It was clear he knew the answer to his question.

Hannah felt herself go cold with fright. “N-no,” she said, and immediately wanted to bite her tongue off. _Great, really fucking believable, Hannah!_

The stranger heaved a great sigh, looking both irritated and exasperated. “Girl, you know you wouldn’t get far in this snow, with that leg, even if you weren’t carrying an unconscious body. And haven’t I made it clear that carrying off someone who’s gonna wake up with a craving for human flesh is a bad idea?”

Hannah nearly bit through her lip, panicked thoughts chasing each other in circles. _What the hell do I say to that?! ‘I’m sorry, that’s not going happen, because you’re delusional and there’s no such thing as wendigos?’_

However, it appeared she didn’t need to say it. He was still examining her face with a keen gaze and was apparently perfectly capable of deducing her thoughts for himself. “But you still don’t believe that’s she actually going to wake up and want to eat you,” he grumbled. “Girl, if I were less charitable, I’d let you find out the hard way – but it just so happens that way is a lot more hassle for me too.” He sighed irritably. “Given that I’d have to chase her down later once she’s loose on the mountain and eating people.” He trailed off into inaudible mutterings.

Hannah hugged her good leg to her chest, eyeing him nervously. He didn’t seem truly angry, more exasperated with her ‘stubbornness’ than anything. “I suppose I’ll just have to show you then,” he grumbled irritably.

Hannah blinked, startled. _Show me? How?_ she thought incredulously.

“I’d have preferred not to, seeing as you don’t remember seeing the Makkapitew on the cliff,” he continued, “And it’s no kindness to show you proof that monsters exist. It would’ve been easier if you could’ve just gone home after this, back to your nice, safe, ordinary life.”

His tone was sardonic by the end and it made Hannah bristle defensively. “And if you’d decided Beth was a monster?” she snapped. “If you decided your ‘exorcism’ didn’t work, and killed her? Did you really think I’d just happily go back to my ‘ordinary life’ after that? After you _murdered my sister?_ ” Her voice had risen to a near-shout and it rang in the silence of big derelict hall.

The stranger regarded her steadily, no hint of amusement on his grizzled face. “She wouldn’t be your sister by that point, girl,” he pointed out calmly. “You’d be able to see that for yourself. And after you did, I wouldn’t kill her anyway.”

 _What?_ Hannah was sure the confusion was written all over her face and sure enough, he sighed in exasperation a moment later.

“Don’t you remember what I said earlier?” he grumbled. “You should only kill a wendigo as a last resort. Killing them only releases the spirit to seek a new host. Trapping them is a much better option, and it’s what I’ve done with most of the wendigos on this mountain. That’s what I’m going show you.” He gestured towards a door at the left of the hall. “They’re across the courtyard and downstairs in the old cell blocks.”

 _What? How is that possible?_ Hannah frowned, gnawing her lip. _He can’t really have wendigos down there so…what…is…_ A horrifying possibility came trickling into her mind. _Is there – surely there aren’t – **people** locked up downstairs?_ She nearly bit right through her lip at the thought. _He’s ill,_ she reminded herself, trying not to freak out. _It’s not his fault he sees monsters where there are none._

“Okay.” Hannah straightened, trying to keep her breathing as calm as possible. _I will not be afraid._ “Okay. Show me the wendigos then.”

Her tone was as neutral as she could make it but the stranger seemed pick up on her suppressed disbelief anyway, looking torn between irritation and grim amusement. “This way.”

Hannah carefully levered herself off the sofa as he collected his flamethrower tanks from the disused altar, shrugging them onto his back. Then she followed him, limping, through the middle doorway on the left-hand side of the room and then out into a snow-blown courtyard.

 _Please let him not have people locked up underground,_ she thought quietly, desperately. _Please let him show me where Beth is after this._ She closed her eyes for a moment, the image of her pale, serene, sleeping twin filling her mind’s eye. The pang of longing was so acute she actually had trouble breathing for a second.

  _I need to see her. I need to know she’s okay._

xxx

Sam exited the hotel room, quietly closing it behind her. She thanked all her lucky stars that she’d brought her hiking gear, having intended to go walking in the mountains when most of the group was still hungover on Sunday morning – it also meant she had a ready stash of granola bars and bottled water, along with her favourite headlamp.

 _God, that seems like so long ago._ She bit her lip, remembering Josh and Chris trying to cajole her into joining their drinking contest.

_“Come on!” Chris offered her a shot glass with unsteady fingers. “It’s good stuff!”_

_The music was loud and thumping, although slightly less loud here in the kitchen, now that Jess had moved the party to the living room in an attempt to coax Emily into showing off her dance moves. The kitchen counters were awash with empty bottles and bags of chips and half-full cups of various alcohols._

_“Yeah, all the cool kids are doing it, Sam,” Josh drawled sardonically. It was possible she may have to catch him in the next ten seconds or so, the way he was listing on his bar stool._

_“Uh-huh,” she raised an eyebrow, amused despite herself by their drunken cheer. “You’re aware it wouldn’t take much for me to outdrink you guys when you’re like this?”_

_“Well, then you’ll definitely win the contest – all the more reason to take part, Sammy.” Josh’s smile was full of lazy mischief and his dark eyes were warm with humour, and Sam told herself that that was definitely not the reason why she was agreeing to this._

_“Well, with an incentive like that, how could I resist?”_

_“Exac’ly,” Chris said, attempting to wink with both eyes. “Here, have a shot.” He poured her a measure of sambuca and then one for Josh._

_She raised the tiny glass, clinking it against Josh’s. “To a good time,” she said._

_He met her eyes, his smile broadening. “To a good time,” he agreed and they downed their drinks together._

Sam only came back to herself when she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth and realised she’d bitten her lip too hard. _Yeah, a good time. Some good time that turned out to be._

Overwhelming guilt squeezed her stomach and she closed her eyes, trying to breathe deeply. If only she’d been faster, if only she’d drank less, if only she’d found Hannah before the prank went ahead…

 _Godamnit Sam pull yourself together, this isn’t helping anything. Josh needs you right now, and what he needs is for you to be focused, especially if we’re going trekking through the deep snow on that mountain._ She wasn’t sure how much of Josh’s intense, vivid dreams were being caused by stress or guilt or grief, but if going back to the mountain to search for his sisters personally was what he needed, then that’s what they’d do. _It’s not like it’s something I don’t want to do either; its just I’m not sure how much we can do if even the police can’t find them._

The sound of a door opening behind her made Sam spin on the spot and she was surprised to see Jess emerging from a room two doors down. The other blonde froze in surprise at the sight of Sam but recovered quickly.

“Hey, Sam,” she said, trying for a cheerful tone. It was clear though, that she wasn’t anywhere close to her usual lively self. She had dark smudges under her eyes and her blonde hair was loose and messy. It looked like she had been tossing and turning, unable to get to sleep, and some very small, mean part of Sam felt a flare of vindictiveness at the sight. _This is your fault._ She squashed the thought down firmly. Jess hadn’t meant for this to happen and there was enough blame being thrown around without her adding to it.

“Hey Jess,” she responded neutrally. Despite her resolve not to blame Jess, she couldn’t quite bring herself to be _happy_ to see her right now. “You looking for something?”

“Mmm. I was going to see if there’s a vending machine downstairs.” She eyed Sam’s hiking clothes curiously. “Where are you going?”

Sam wrestled with herself for a moment. _It’s not like they won’t notice in the morning anyway._ “Josh and I are going to look for Hannah and Beth.”

Guilt flared briefly in Jess’ grey eyes, before being eclipsed by alarm. “You’re going _back_? It’s dangerous up there –”

“The snowstorm’s stopped,” Sam cut her off brusquely. “And I know what I’m doing, I’ve hiked in the snow before.” 

 _Hannah and Beth haven’t._ The unspoken words echoed loudly between them and Jess looked away, unable to hide the flash of guilt. Then she turned back to face Sam and her formidable walls had risen again, her cheerfulness enveloping her like armour. “Wait here, I’ll be back in a sec.”

She vanished into her room and reappeared a few moments later, holding a heavy-duty flashlight. _What? Oh yeah, I forgot she always brings her own in case there’s a power cut._ Sam was suddenly transported back to the first time she had met ten-year-old Jess at a sleepover, her fierce gaze daring anyone to judge her for having a little flashlight by her bed.

“Here.” She held it out and Sam recognised the gesture for what it was. Jess would never say it in so many words, but it was an apology all the same. “In case yours runs out of battery.”

Sam accepted it, feeling the reassuring weight in her hands. “Thanks, Jess.”

“Don’t mention it,” the blonde gave her a bright smile, only slightly marred by the clear exhaustion on her face, and went back into her room, the door swinging shut behind her.

Sam was left standing in the hallway, holding the unexpected peace offering. Then, she turned and went down the stairs. Josh was waiting – and so were Hannah and Beth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The last transitional-type chapter! Things properly get moving in the next chapter, which is at least half done now. Thanks for reading and if you enjoyed, please leave a comment. :)


	5. Seeing is Believing

“This way, girl.”

The stranger’s voice echoed back down the corridor to Hannah and she huffed a little. “I have a name, you know!” she called back, the pain in her leg making her irritation sharper than it might otherwise have been.

His chuckle floated back to her as she followed the flickering light of his lantern up ahead. “I know. Couldn’t spend any amount of time on this mountain and not know who Bob Washington’s kids are.”

“Oh,” Hannah said, startled. “You know our names?” she asked, as she limped after him.

He paused in the doorway to allow her to catch up. “Well, I reckon since you keep calling your sister Beth, and you’re not likely to be Joshua,” he paused to give her an amused smirk over his shoulder, to which she scowled in reply, “That would probably make you Hannah Washington.”

 “If you knew that, why do you keep calling me ‘girl’?” Hannah huffed in annoyance as she caught up to him.

“Privilege of age,” came the prompt reply. “And of living outside of polite society. C’mon, girl.” And so saying, he walked into the next room, still smirking a little.

Hannah scowled and limped a little faster. Her leg was hurting _quite a lot_ again and it was putting her in a terrible mood, coupled with the stomach-churning trepidation of exactly what ‘proof’ she was about to witness. She opened her mouth, intending to argue, when the words died away at the sight of the next room.

Despite being derelict and in ruins, or perhaps _because_ _of_ being derelict and in ruins, it was an awe-inspiring sight – a massive four-storey cylindrical room, its soaring roof lost somewhere in the shadows above. Faint white moonlight trickled in through tall, grimy windows, illuminating the ruined splendour. _The clouds must’ve cleared,_ Hannah thought absently, still scanning the room as the stranger pulled a lever next to a barred door just ahead of her.

The door slid back and he walked through, motioning her to accompany him. She stepped through the gate too and he pulled another lever. The door clanged shut behind them and another opened in front of them.

 “It’s a partitioning system,” she realised. “But for what?” Hannah didn’t realise she had spoken aloud until the stranger glanced back at her.

“Well, back in the day, I reckon it was to stop unruly patients running off,” he grunted, wrenching down another lever. The rusty metal shrieked in protest but caved to his strength, and the next door slid open. “Now, though? I find it very handy for containing wendigos in the event of a breakout.”

“Hmm.” Hannah made a noncommittal noise, not wanting to agree but not quite daring to openly disagree either.

He barked a laugh anyway, seemingly reading her thoughts quite clearly in that single sound. “You’ll see soon enough, girl.”

Hannah frowned in annoyance, recalling their previous conversation in light of his insistence on calling her ‘girl’. “What about you?” she asked, as he led the way out of the vast room, up a short set of stairs into a narrow corridor.

“What about me?” he said, turning left into a room that looked like it had once maybe been a kitchen.

“What’s _your_ name?” Hannah elaborated.

If she hadn’t been watching his back, she might have missed the slight hesitation in his stride, the almost-pause, before he recovered and kept walking. “My name’s not important,” he said, even more gruffly than usual after a long pause.

Something about his tone made Hannah hesitate, and bite her lip, before dropping the subject. She trailed after him, a little more subdued as they went down another flight of stairs. Up ahead, where the corridor bent, she could see what looked like the start of a double row of cells, visible in the faint moonlight.

“We’re here,” the stranger announced as he came to a halt just before the first cell. “Behold – the wendigo,” he said, with a sort of dryly sardonic flourish to his voice.

Hannah stopped beside him, peering forward uncertainly. She just could make out what looked like a still human form lying on the ground in the shadows, pale and curled up.

  _Oh God._ Hannah’s heart felt like it had lodged in her throat. _Oh God, there really is a person locked in there –_

She started forward automatically, not knowing what she was going to do when she got there, just that she had to do _something,_ when the pale form stirred and made a strange, sleepy chittering noise. Hannah froze. Ice skittered down her spine as some primal part of her brain sent up a warning flag. _Danger_ , it whispered.

The form unfolded, too long and spindly, its movements too jerky and sharp, and something in her hindbrain screamed _wrong,_ the danger signals now flashing like a nuclear plant going into meltdown.

The chittering sound grew louder and all the hairs rose on Hannah’s arms as the pale form skittered forward through the shadowy cell on all fours, with inhuman swiftness. She was already backing away when it emerged into a weak shaft of moonlight, grotesque form illuminated in the silver light. Its frame was gaunt, skeletal – stretched and warped and elongated, skin pulled taut across a body so different in shape from what it used to be. Its long, long fingers ended in talon-like nails; dead, milky-white eyes stared blindly and a mouthful of needle-like teeth clicked together as it made that strange, unnerving chitter sound again, louder this time.

The sight of it, so stark and undeniable in the moonlight, pulled a horrified cry from Hannah’s lips as she stumbled back. Immediately, the creature’s head snapped to follow her movement and it gave a great, piercing shriek, overwhelmingly loud in the enclosed space. It echoed down the hall of cells and Hannah felt a bolt of pure terror shoot through her as there was suddenly _movement_ down the entire length of the corridor. A cacophony of curious clicks and chittering sounds filled the air, as the shadows stirred and pale forms slunk out of the back of cells, darting into the light with inhuman speed.

“ _Oh God, oh God, oh God_ –” Hannah was barely aware of whimpering under her breath as she backed away, horror and fear overwhelming her. The creatures darted forward, reaching long, spindly arms through the bars of their cages, blind eyes fixed on her stumbling retreat as they screamed – horrible inhuman sounds that made the bottom of her stomach drop in terror.

The chorus of shrieking cries rang in the enclosed space, the echoes filling the air and reverberating off the walls and Hannah clamped her ears over her ears, sobbing as she stumbled back, no thought in her head except _get away_. She tripped and would have fallen, if not for the strong hands that landed on her shoulders, steadying her, and her shocked, terrified eyes met those of the stranger. “I think that’s enough,” he said grimly, and swept her away, up the stairs and out of the holding area.

xxx

“You were right,” Hannah said blankly.

She was sitting curled up on the battered old sofa in front of the roaring fireplace in the chapel hall, with the worn blanket tucked around her shoulders. Her hands were clasped tightly around a cup of fresh, hot coffee, which she was currently staring blankly into as if it contained all the secrets of the universe.

The stranger snorted, raking the fire with the poker. The glowing logs crackled and shifted as he made room for another one. “I’m aware of that.”

Hannah scowled, stirred from her shock slightly by annoyance. “You could _try_ to be less of a jerk about it.”

He chuckled dryly. “If you’re looking for sensitivity, you’re looking in the wrong place, girly.”

“Hmmph,” Hannah muttered, hunching in on herself. “I noticed.” She took a sip of the hot coffee, grateful for the heat of the liquid and strength of the flavour, even though it didn’t have the oodles and doodles of sugar and milk she normally added. Her mind was still dazed and reeling with the shock of finding out that _wendigos are real, the old guy **isn’t** delusional, holy bananas, _ even if the actual terror had receded somewhat now that they had put some distance between themselves and the impossible monsters. And of course, fast on the heels of those emotions, came guilt.

Hannah bit her lip and then blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

The stranger glanced up her from where he was raking the fire. “For what?” he asked.

“Well…for not believing you, I suppose. And for calling you a freak,” she added, flushing red in embarrassment at the memory.

The stranger snorted in amusement. “Girl, I think we’ve established that the wendigos are something that need to be seen to be believed. As for the other part…” he shrugged. “Like I’ve said, I’ve heard worse. And you were worried about your sister.”

Hannah curled around her cup of coffee, still embarrassed. “Thank you,” she said quietly, grateful that he wouldn’t hold it against her.

The man grunted and replaced the poker in its place beside the fire, before climbing back to his feet, dusting off his knees. Hannah sipped at the coffee, her gaze fixed unseeingly on the floor as her thoughts sped along rapidly. Now that she had time to think about it, in a practical sense this revelation didn’t change the plan of action much, only her willingness to go along with it. An exorcism needed to happen – from what the stranger said, Beth…Beth had a wendigo spirit clinging to her own, just waiting for her to wake up.

A wave of icy fear swept over her and Hannah’s hands tightened convulsively on her mug, knuckles whitening as that horrifying realisation sank in. It was _real_. The danger was _real._ Wendigos were real and Beth had the spirit of one _attached_ to her –

Her mind’s eye conjured up an image of her twin, her features twisted and warped into something horrific and inhuman, a mouthful of razor teeth and dead white eyes –

“How soon can you do this exorcism?” she blurted out, suddenly frantic with the need to do something.

The stranger paused from where he was restacking the log pile and cast her a knowing look. “It’ll take me around a day to gather what I need. It’s not like this situation happens often after all – usually the poor bastard’s given in by the time I run across them and no amount of exorcisms will do them any good.”

_A day!_ Hannah’s stomach clenched anxiously. _That’s reasonable,_ she reminded herself, trying to calm down. It was hard; now that she knew the threat was real, it was difficult not to let the worry and fear run riot. _I can’t just sit here and do nothing, I’ll explode._ “Can I help in any way?” she asked, desperate to do something.

The stranger shook his head. “I’ll be going down the mountain a ways; you’ll slow me down more than anything, with that leg of yours,” he said frankly.

Hannah bit her lip. _Okay, okay…_ “Well, then I’d like to sit with Beth,” she said firmly. “You can’t have any more objection to that, right? I’m not going to try to carry her off down the mountain anymore.”

He smirked. “You’re like a dog with a bone, girl.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same?” Hannah frowned. “I stand by what said before – it’ll make me feel better, seeing Beth, and talking to her might help. I’m pretty sure coma patients are supposed to be able to hear people talking to them.”

The stranger shook his head in resigned amusement. “I suppose it’ll keep you out from under foot,” he said gruffly. “But on one condition – stay on the other side of the bars. If she wakes up when I’m gone, and you’re in there, there’s not gonna be much left of you for me to find when I get back.”

Hannah’s stomach lurched with a mixture of nausea and horror. “That’s fine,” she managed to say. “Is Beth in a cell then too?”

The older man gave a brief nod. “Different place though – I’ve not put her near the wendigos if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay,” Hannah took a deep breath. “I’m ready to go then.”

“Before we do, I reckon we should strap up that leg properly though,” he said, nodding towards her makeshift brace. “Don’t want to damage it any further.”

Ten minutes later, Hannah was following the stranger through a door at the back of the chapel hall, marvelling at the different a proper brace made. He had been brisk and efficient in binding her twisted knee, and the pain was already considerably lessened.  “Hey, you’re pretty good at this, you know. Thanks.”

“I should be. There isn’t a hospital anywhere close to here, and it’s not like wendigo huntin’ is a low-risk business,” he responded dryly as they made their way down a flight of stairs. Then, before Hannah could properly contemplate that unpleasant thought, he added, “There she is.”

Any and all thoughts about how awful it must be to so far from proper medical help were immediately wiped away as Hannah caught sight of her twin through a barred door on the far side of the room. “ _Beth!”_

Hannah sprinted across the short distance between them, falling to her knees beside the cage door and grabbing desperately for her sister’s hand through the bars. _Alive,_ she thought, barely aware of the tears running down her face as she clung to Beth’s hand, slack and unresponsive but still warm with life. _She’s still here and she’s alive._ She hadn’t realised how much some part of her had been convinced Beth was lost until she could confirm it with her own eyes.

“When we get out of this, you might have to put up with me being super clingy for a while, Beth,” she laughed shakily, wiping away her tears with one hand, unwillingly to let go completely even for a second. She smoothed her sister’s hair back gently out of her face, which was still serene and untroubled, looking for all the world as if she were merely sleeping. It was then that Hannah noticed the symbols – a complex network of runes covering the walls and floor of the little cell, etched into the concrete, with Beth lying in the centre.

“Remember, girl – she wakes up, you get your hand out of that cage real quick.” The stranger’s footsteps echoed in the big empty room and she looked up, just in time to see him toss her a bundle of fabric. She caught it, fumbling slightly, and then looked at him questioningly. “Blankets, food and water. Since you don’t seem too keen on moving from your sister’s side and I’ll be gone most of the day,” he said gruffly. “Try not to shift that leg either. The amount of moving you did on it, you’ll be lucky if you’ve not damaged it permanently.”

Hannah huffed as she unfolded the blankets to sit on and put the packet of biscuits and bottle of water to the side. “Not like I had much choice about the ‘moving-while-injured thing’. But I will. And thank you – for everything,” she added, managing a heartfelt smile. She was really, truly, grateful; he had helped her and Beth in so many ways. There was no question that they’d be dead without him.

He waved a hand dismissively, already heading for the stairs. “Just doing my job,” he grumbled but Hannah thought she could detect a hint of embarrassment and turned away to hide a smile. She had just curled her fingers around Beth’s again, when the sound of his footsteps paused on the stairs. “Girl?”

Hannah looked up, squinting to see through dark against the brightness of the storm lantern next to her. “Um, yes?”

There was a long pause, and then – “My name is Jack.”

It took a second for his words to register, and then Hannah beamed brightly, even though he couldn’t see it. “Hi Jack! Nice to meet you.”

“Hmph.” The older man managed to convey a lot of grumpiness in a single syllable. “Likewise, I suppose. You’re not too bad at least, for an idiot teenager.”

Then the sound of his footsteps resumed, fading away into the distance, and Hannah couldn’t stop smiling, even as she curled up close to the bars of Beth’s cage, linking their fingers together more securely. _It’s going to be okay, I think. Just hang in there, Beth._

xxx

“You okay, Sam?”

Sam nodded as she dropped into the passenger seat of Josh’s car, dumping her rucksack in the back. The ‘Rusty Tin Can’ – as she had affectionately dubbed it, much to Josh’s protests – had been idling quietly in the hotel’s front parking lot with no lights, Josh patiently waiting for her. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, twisting around to clip in her seatbelt. “I bumped into Jess in the hallway.”

Josh’s expression darkened at the mention of the blonde’s name. “What did she want?”

Sam glanced at him cautiously. “To give me this,” she said, showing him the flashlight.

Astonishment flickered across his face briefly, before his expression closed off again. He knew as well as she did how important it was to Jess to have a flashlight by her bed, but it was also clear he was still far too angry to acknowledge the implicit apology.

They pulled out of the parking lot and made their way out of town on dark, empty roads, occasionally exchanging a quiet word or two, but for the most part staying silent, too exhausted and emotionally wrung-out to want to keep up a conversation.

It wasn’t until they reached the small parking bay at the foot of the mountain, and the wooden gate that marked the start of the trail, that something occurred to Sam. “Hey, Josh – what about the police?”

“What about them?” Josh unlatched the gate and they passed under the swinging sign that declared the entrance to Blackwood Pines.

“Well, isn’t this still an active crime scene? Won’t there still be, I dunno, police about? Who probably won’t be very happy to see us?” Sam asked, glancing around the trail as they approached the secondary iron gate.

“Nah.” Josh unlocked it and waved Sam through, before closing it and locking it behind them. “I mean, I don’t if you noticed Sammy, but we’re kinda in the sticks out here.” The wan humour in his voice was a pale imitation of his usual laidback mischief, but it was better than the black cloud that had been hovering over him for almost two weeks now. “Basically, the police don’t really have the manpower to keep a round the clock watch on the crime scene, especially now that it’s been twelve days and no new evidence has been turned up. The search and rescue teams start out first thing every morning in a grid search pattern but they come back when it gets dark – apparently it’s ‘too dangerous’ to search on the mountain at night.”

“How do you know all this?” Sam asked, genuinely curious but also eager to keep Josh from sinking back down into his previous state of mind. “Your dad wouldn’t let any of us help in the search, and last I checked, you said he was refusing to share any detailed information.”

Josh grinned at her then, as the cable car station came into sight, and the barest spark of his old, sly mischief lit up his brown eyes for a second. “That would be down to our secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon…?” Sam’s voice trailed off as Josh pulled out his phone and swiped it open. A second later it was ringing and Sam’s question was answered as the speakerphone projected a very familiar voice into the air.

“Hey, Josh! What’s up?” Chris sounded exhausted but still bright and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle a little. Of _course_ Josh’s secret weapon was Chris.

“Hey, Cochise.” Josh cast a sidelong look at Sam, a little more humour warming his face as he passed her the phone. “Sam and me are nearly at the cable car station, so if there’s anything else you need to tell us, now would be a good time before we lose the signal.”

“Ah, right.” The sound of tapping keys was audible through the line. “Well, I hacked your Dad’s email again and the police are still saying the same sort of thing – which is essentially, they’ve not found anything new. Although the Sheriff, Annie Cline, mentions a ‘person of interest’ that they’ve been looking for – which I think is a polite way of saying ‘suspect’.”

Josh paused from rummaging around in his rucksack for cable car key. “What? Who?” His voice was suddenly intense, edged with anger.

“Um…some guy your parents have beef with, I think, judging by the tone of the email. The Sheriff and your dad don’t go into all of the details but from what I’m reading, apparently he warned them off building the lodge in the first place. Because… huh. Apparently, the land is ‘sacred to his forefathers’. Does that mean he’s Native American?” Chris mused thoughtfully.

“Way to stereotype, Chris,” Josh said, clearly trying for a light tone, but falling short. “What else does it say?”

“Um…not much. Reading between the lines, he’s some sort of hermit, and he lives somewhere on the mountain, and he possibly resents your family’s presence there, but the police can’t find him and they have no idea where he actually lives.” Chris sighed gustily. “Bro, I’m beginning to think the cops are kind of useless. Or least these ones are.”

“That,” Josh said grimly as they stepped up onto the porch in front of the cable car station, “Is exactly why we’re going ourselves.”

Chris sighed again, his humour falling away. “I wish I was there too. If it weren’t for my ankle…I mean, I’m no Bear Grylls but I don’t want to just be sitting here. I want to help.”

Sam sympathised with his frustration – it was exactly the same as what she and Josh had felt sitting in the hotel, the agonising, endless wait for news. “You _are_ helping, Chris,” she encouraged. “Where would we be without your intel?” Josh unlocked the door and she stepped through, flashing him a quick smile in thanks as she continued to speak. “Thanks to you, we know where’s already been searched and everything else the police know – or at least, everything they’re telling Josh’s dad anyway.”

“I know.” Chris sounded a little less mournful. “I can’t believe I sprained my ankle that badly though. Of all the stupid things to do while drunk…”

“Oh, I don’t know, Cochise,” Josh interrupted, a little amusement creeping back into his voice as he turned the key and pushed the button to summon the cable car. The machinery rumbled into life. “I can think of _plenty_ of stupider things you’ve done when drunk. Not to mention you’re a ridiculous klutz even when you’re sober.”

“You’re definitely the only person I know who broke their arm three times falling out of trees as a kid,” Sam said, grinning as she dusted off her jacket. “You would have thought your parents would have banned you from trees after the second time.”

“Or who broke a leg jumping off your garage roof when we were playing Spiderman,” Josh pointed out, smirking. “Or smacked the back of your head off the platform when you jumped for the monkey bars in the park–”

“Okay, I get it, I’m accident-prone,” Chris huffed in good-natured defeat. “Just, you guys be careful too, okay? I won’t be happy if I have to call for an air ambulance because one of you breaks a leg.”

“Hey, Sam knows what she’s doing,” Josh said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “And I’m with Sam, so I’m sure we won’t need be needing the emergency services.”

Sam rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her at the words ‘I’m with Sam’ and all the easy trust that implied. “Thanks Josh, no pressure then.”

“None at all,” Josh returned, as the cable car finally clanked into the station. “Hey, Chris, our ride’s here. I’m gonna hang up before the signal drops – take care too, bro. Keep that leg elevated.” His tone was both playful and serious.

Chris sighed exaggeratedly. “Will do. Good luck, space cadets. Houston out.”

 The line went dead and Josh pocketed his phone again, before turning to Sam. “Ladies first,” he said, gesturing to the cable car with a smile, although the levity was already beginning to drain from the atmosphere again.

“Such a gentleman,” Sam said, stepping into the transport. She tipped her head back to gaze up the mountainside to where the lodge was hidden, by trees and snow and distance, and an inexplicable chill ran down her spine.

Blackwood was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Shit’s going dooooowwnnn. xD Hope you enjoyed – thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought. :)


	6. For You are the Light in the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I’m baaaack! xD Please forgive any typos – I literally wrote this all in one go today to try and get an update to you guys as quick as possible. EDIT: Okay, turns out there were more than a couple of typos. xD I've caught most of them hopefully, and straightened out a couple of wonky bits of characterisation.

* * *

“So where to first, Josh?” Sam asked as they stepped out of the cable car station, switching their flashlights back on as they did so.

Josh gestured up the mountain to where the roof of the lodge was just visible as a dark smudge above the tree-line, silhouetted against the stars. “The lodge; I need to get some things. Thanks to my Dad’s emails we know where the police have and haven't searched – and we know that they barely touched the mines.”

“The mines?” Sam asked, as they began trudging up the hill. She remembered seeing signs for various entrances to the underground tunnels during her hikes on Blackwood, but she'd never felt much inclination to go in. She was a hiker and rock-climber, not a spelunker. “Why didn't they check it out? That would actually be a good place to shelter in a snowstorm.” Unbidden, a little well of hope sprung up in her chest as she considered the possibility.

“Because they’re apparently too dangerous or something, and were condemned sometime in the late fifties.” Josh’s tone said all too clearly what he thought of this excuse. “Dad tried to talk them into it but the local police and rescue teams apparently refused blank point. He's completely fuming about it.”

“I'm not surprised,” Sam said, frowning and trying not to get angry herself. “Isn't that their job?” The thought of Hannah and Beth, curled up in a tunnel somewhere, waiting and waiting for a rescue that was never coming…

She shuddered, and rubbed her arms to ward off a sudden chill. “I take it we’ll be checking out the mines then?” she asked, pushing past her emotions to begin swift calculations. “Do you by any chance have anything like hard hats at the lodge?”

“Uh, we should do,” Josh said thoughtfully. “Since you talked Beth into going rock climbing with you,” he flashed her a teasing smile, “She’s taken to keeping her climbing gear at the lodge, including a helmet. I think she had a spare too.”

Sam sniffed, trying to hide a smile. “There's nothing wrong with having a passion for sports.”

Josh nodded sagely. “Nope, nothing wrong with that. Sports are fun.”

“Wii Sports don't count, Washington.” Sam punched him lightly on the shoulder, unable to keep from smiling broadly now and Josh’s laughter rang out through the dark pine trees as he tried to dodge away from her fist. Sam kept smiling even though hearing the sound of his laugh was a little like getting punched herself, after so many days of his anger and despair.

Josh straightened, his chuckles dying away, although he was still grinning a little. “No need to get violent with me, Connors. As I was saying, climbing helmets should be at the lodge, along with the grand prize.”

“Oh?” Sam raised her eyebrows, refusing to be suckered in by his mysterious tone. “What would that be then?”

Josh smiled his trademark languid grin as they continued to climb higher through the snow. “That would be _maps_ , Sammy.”

It took Sam less than two seconds to put it together. “Maps of the mines?”

“Yep,” Josh grinned at her. “Maps of the mines, and of the mountain in general. My dad found them and I thought you’d appreciate not having to fly blind here. Or at least rely completely on memory alone.”

“That I do.” Sam offered him a sunny smile. Despite herself, she was actually starting to feel a little bit optimistic about their chances. After all, it made sense that Hannah and Beth might seek shelter from the snowstorm underground, and that search and rescue hadn’t found them precisely because they didn’t want to venture into the tunnels. Of course, that also likely meant the twins were injured if they hadn’t tried to make their way back to the lodge on their own after so many days…

Sam continued ruminating on the possibilities, trying her best to focus on the positives as she and Josh trudged up the path to the Washington’s retreat. The ground had been trampled into muddy slush by the passage of so many feet over the past twelve days and it took all of their concentration to avoid slipping and falling flat on their faces.

It didn’t take look for the lodge to loom into view through the dark tree trunks. It looked distinctly uninviting without the usual golden light shining from every window, and Sam repressed a shiver of unease. _It’s just a building,_ she berated herself silently.

Josh produced a key from somewhere and soon they were inside, stamping slush off their boots and shaking the light smattering of snow from their jackets. “Your Dad’s study first? For the maps?” Sam asked. Her voice echoed in the cavernous space of the multi-stored lodge and she had to fight the urge to lower her voice to a whisper, the sense of prickling unease intensifying. _What’s wrong with me?_

“Yep, that’s the plan.” Josh led the way up the central staircase to the first floor and into Bob Washington’s study. It was filled with an impressive array of books and filing cabinets, and dominated by a sturdy oak desk covered in reams of paper.

“Your dad actually has work sitting out here?” Sam glanced over the papers. “Isn’t this supposed to a holiday retreat?”

Josh snorted. “You know my dad. He’s a workaholic. But actually, most of this stuff is related to the investigation. He managed to dig up a couple maps of the mountain, including some ancient ones of the mines and the old sanatorium.”

He began sifting carefully through the paper as Sam frowned thoughtfully. “The old sanatorium? I’ve hiked past that place a bunch of times. Have the police checked it out too? I mean it’s really far away and it’s completely boarded up but surely it’s still worth a look.”

Josh scowled, pulling out what looked like a faded, battered set of blueprints from underneath a sheaf of newer paper. “I thought so too but apparently the officers just had a look around the grounds. I thought if we can’t find anything in the mines, we should go check it out too.”

He carefully smoothed out the blueprints for the sanatorium and laid out the map of the mines beside it, and Sam leant over, examining them closely. “Well, they weren’t kidding about the mines being a wreck,” she eventually muttered in disbelief, scanning the map again. Faded red ink marked out dangerous and unstable areas of the tunnels, which looked to be a good sixty percent of them. “I’m sort of actually concerned for the general stability of the entire area around here now.”

“You know my dad,” Josh said, utterly dry. “If he decides he wants something, he won’t stop until he gets it, regardless of reason, logic, or general common sense.”

Sam sighed. “Well, I wish he hadn’t decided he wanted this mountain.” She frowned, rotating the blueprints for Blackwood Sanatorium. “Josh, did you know that there’s a tunnel leading from sanatorium to the lodge?”

“What? No, I didn’t.” Josh moved around the table to stand beside her, frowning now too as she traced the route across the paper with her index finger. Then his expression cleared. “Oh, that’s just a leftover from when the old hotel and the sanatorium were run by the same people.”

“The old hotel?” Sam wracked her brains, trying to remember where she’d heard that before. “That was demolished not long before your dad bought this place right?” 

“Yeah, but there was a whole bunch of underground stuff like the staff quarters and things that no one bothered to get rid of. And for some reason, when Dad bought the land, he decided to build the lodge directly where the old hotel used to be, which means that it’s actually possible to get into the ruined underground parts from our basement.” Josh pulled out another set of blueprints from the pile, this time of the lodge. He tapped the indicated area, adding, “Our basement’s actually a renovated part of the hotel; Dad just had the rest of it blocked off.”

Sam shook her head in disbelief. “No offense, Josh, but I’m starting to seriously question your dad’s taste in real estate.”

Josh laughed, although the sound had little humour to it. “Join the club, Sammy.”

It didn’t take them long to roll the map of the mines and the sanatorium’s blueprints into a neat pair of tubes and secure them with an elastic band. “Climbing gear’s in the basement, right?” Sam asked, zipping her rucksack closed on the rolls of paper.

“Yep.” Josh closed the study door behind them and then started following Sam as she headed back down the stairs. “We stack all the sports stuff near the generator, and by stack, I mean ‘scatter in the general vicinity of’.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me at all,” Sam said dryly, flashing a smile over her shoulder at him. “I’ve seen the mess you make if left to your own devices.”

“Oi,” Josh protested as he unlocked the basement door. “I’m not the only one, Hannah –” he faltered briefly, “Hannah makes just as much mess as I do.”

Sam gave him a warm grin, ignoring the dip in the atmosphere. “Fair enough,” she acknowledged, following him down the concrete stairs. “I suppose you’re the least sporty one too.”

“I resent that.” His voice echoed in the stairwell, although at least it hadn’t lost its faint traces of humour. “I am the epitome of fitness, I’ll have you know.”

“I’m amazed you got that sentence out with a straight face, Josh Washington,” Sam snarked. “You forget I went to high school with you, and I saw you in gym. Or more precisely, I saw you and Chris _avoiding_ gym.”

“Well, we can’t all have mad rope-climbing skills, Sammy,” Josh said, an amused smirk curling the corner of his mouth as they spread out to begin searching the basement. “I fell flat on my ass trying to climb up that stupid rope more times than I want to think about and all I got was rope burns for my trouble. Can you blame me for ditching gym occasionally?”

“Well –” Sam was about to reply when she caught sight of a very familiar blue canvas bag. “Aha!” she exclaimed, pouncing on it. “Found it!”

“Nice.” Josh abandoned his search and crossing the room to crouch next to Sam. “Are the helmets there?”

“Yep.” Sam pulled one out and dumped it on his head, snickering at his mock-affronted expression. “Both present and correct. I think we should take the rest of the climbing gear too,” she added glancing at the rest of the bag’s contents, before zipping it up again. “I’m a little concerned about the _abandoned mines_ we’re about to venture into – in this situation, I don’t think there’s such a thing as too many advantages.”

“Fair enough.” Josh stood, brushing off the knees of his jeans. “I just hope you remember that I’m not exactly going to be great at any climbing that needs to be done.”

“Aw, don’t worry.” Sam bumped his shoulder with her own, smiling. “You’re in expert hands, remember?”

“Hmm, I think I remember saying something about that…” he began, before his voice suddenly trailed off mid-sentence, his attention caught by something across the room.

“Josh?” Sam frowned, stepping around him to get a look at what he was staring at. All she could see was a gleaming, dark grey metal cabinet. “What’s that?”

“Dad’s gun cabinet,” Josh muttered, sounding distant. The humour that Sam had worked so hard to inject into the atmosphere was completely gone, replaced by an odd, prickling tension. She bit her lip, alarmed by his expression.

“Well, there’s no need for guns, surely,” she said cautiously. She really didn’t want a firearm in Josh’s hands in his present state of mind.

“I feel like it’s important,” Josh said, gaze still fixed distractedly on the cabinet. “Important like the feeling that I should come back to the mountain in the first place. Besides,” he suddenly looked at her, dark eyes blazing with some intense emotion, “What if the guy that the police reports were talking about really did have something to do with Hannah and Beth going missing? The mountain’s one thing, but we can’t exactly defend ourselves with climbing helmets and harnesses against some – some _psycho_ –”

His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles whitened and Sam quickly reached out, placing one hand on top of his. He blinked, the dark storm of anger in his eyes fading into surprise as he looked down at Sam’s hand gently resting on his. “Josh,” the blonde said soothingly, trying to tamp down on the churning worry in her stomach, “It’s okay. I see what you’re saying. But I’m – I’m not sure – if we run into this guy – I’m not sure if it’s a good idea that you do it holding a gun.”

Josh frowned. “What’s the matter, Sam? Don’t trust me with a weapon?”

There was an unexpected trace of bitterness in his voice and it gave Sam momentary pause, before she plunged on. “I trust that you love your sisters, Josh,” she said, holding his gaze firmly. “And that that love makes you fierce in their defence. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret later.”

Josh held her gaze for several long seconds, his eyes filled with unreadable emotion. Then he blew out a sigh, glancing away as his shoulders slumped. “Always the voice of reason.”

Despite his words, his tone was free from anger or bitterness and Sam let herself relax a little. She squeezed his hand gently, which had loosened from its tight fist, and gave him a tentative smile. “It’s a curse, being so logical.”

Josh gave a surprised laugh, his gaze flicking back to her face as she finally released his hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sammy.” There was an unexpected raw honesty in his voice that seemed to startle even Josh to hear it there, if the flicker of surprise that immediately crossed his face was any indication. But before she could decide how to respond, he gave her a swift smile and changed the subject. “You win. I won’t take a gun. But it just so happens there is a much more responsible adult present who could take custody of a firearm instead…” he trailed off meaningfully, raising an eyebrow at her.

Sam blinked, blindsided. “Me?” she could hear the incredulity in her own voice.

“I know you don’t like guns, but you did learn to shoot with the rest of us when my dad dragged us all out to his firing range,” Josh coaxed. “Please, Sam. It would make me feel a lot better if at least one of us were armed.”

 _Damnit._ Sam could feel her willpower crumbling at the pleading in his voice, the same pleading that had convinced her to come back up on the mountain even though she’d originally doubted that they could be of more help in the search than the police, or the official search and rescue teams. “Okay,” she exhaled. “Okay. I’ll take a gun. Do you have the key for the cabinet?”

Josh’s relieved grin was blinding. “Thanks Sam, you’re the best. I’ll go get it.”

Sam watched him jog away up the stairs and took a deep breath, trying to banish her doubts. _I’m not likely to need it,_ she told herself firmly. _It’s here to make Josh feel better._

The deep sense of unease persisted though. Josh returned, unlocking the cabinet and passing her a shotgun, and as Sam looked down at the gleaming weapon in her hands, she couldn’t help the terrible feeling of foreboding, the awful premonition that she would end up using the gun before the day was through.

_I really, really hope I’m wrong._

xxx

“There’s an entrance to the mines really close to here,” Josh muttered, pouring over the map as they trudged through the snow. “It’s just off the main trail by the look of it.”

Sam nodded distractedly, and as he glanced at her, he couldn’t help but notice the way her hand kept drifting to uneasily check the shotgun slung over her shoulder. _Man, I feel like such an asshole._ He knew Sam disapproved of guns in general, and that just carrying one was making her uncomfortable, but he couldn’t shake the rock-solid certainty that they _needed_ this shotgun. It was like the absolute clarity of his dreams – _visions_ , really, as fucking corny as that sounded – that had driven him back up the mountain in the first place.

But Sam had no such certainty and she’d agreed to bring the shotgun anyway, despite her unhappiness, just to make him feel better. It was also probably better than he wasn’t the one carrying it either, now that he’d had time to think about it properly. The depth of his rage was almost frightening, even to himself, and that was when it was only directed at the idiocy and petty, thoughtless cruelty of most of his so-called friends. The thought of some crazy mountain hermit (not that he had much room to throw stones on the crazy front) actively kidnapping or hurting his sisters…

_Yeah. It’s probably better that Sam has the gun._

He glanced at the blonde girl, trekking stoically at his side, and felt a pang of longing so acute it made his chest hurt. _I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like her as a friend._ Then his thoughts ran on, as they always did, and he had to mentally cut himself off. _I should just be fucking happy with what I have – she clearly doesn’t see me like that. And now really isn’t the time anyway, for God’s sake._

Sam caught his gaze, giving him a slight, encouraging smile and not for the first time, he was thoroughly distracted by the way it lit up her face. _I am so majorly fucked._

That despairing thought was interrupted as they rounded a corner in the path and suddenly a black hole yawned open in the rock wall to their right. They halted at the same time and Josh glanced down at his map. “This looks like the entrance.”

It also looked like the least fucking inviting place he’d ever seen in his life, and judging by Sam’s expression she agreed with that assessment. “Ladies first,” he added, grinning as the blonde shot him a withering look. He couldn’t help but smile around her, heart lightened by her presence even when his underlying emotional state was still completely bleak.

_So, so fucked._

“Such a gentleman,” she said sarcastically, stepping lightly into the tunnel. The white beam of light of her headlamp pierced through the gloom of the passageway, picking out the wooden support beams bracing the walls and ceiling.

“Hey, I believe in equality and fair play,” he defended, still grinning as he fell into step behind her. “And I think don’t there’s any shame in admitting that you’re the best qualified to lead the way here.”

She sighed, but he could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke. “Unfortunately I can’t argue with that,” she conceded gracefully.

“Nice. What’s my prize for winning?” he teased, shining his flashlight along the rocky passageway.

“I have eight granola bars – three apple and five cinnamon. You can take your pick,” Sam deadpanned.

Josh sighed exaggeratedly. “Oh wow, tough choice, Sammy.”

“Take it or leave it,” she retorted playfully, even as she kept scanning the ground ahead for obstacles.

“Ah, fine. Cinnamon.” He barely caught the bar she lobbed at his head and mock-complained loudly, “Steady Sam, some of us don’t have ninja reflexes.”

“That’s because some of us didn’t go to gym when we were supposed to.”

He could hear the mirth in her voice and grinned in response. “Ouch. Burn.”

She flashed him a quick smile, bright in the dark, and for a moment, despite the freezing cold, Josh felt completely warmed through.

_So utterly fucked._

xxx

“– and that was the Christmas I tried making gingerbread for the first time. I don’t know if you remember what a total disaster _that_ was, but I never –”

A low growl cut across her recollections and Hannah blinked in surprise, looking up from the unconscious form of her twin. The grey wolf was standing at the foot of the stairs across the room, regarding her with alert amber eyes.

“Oh, hi again,” Hannah greeted in surprise, easing up into a sitting position. “I thought you both left with Jack – I guess not, huh?”

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since the hunter had left, but she was suddenly aware of how dry her throat was from the constant talking she had been doing. Beth hadn’t so much as twitched the entire time in response, but at least Hannah felt like she was doing _something,_ rather than just sitting around waiting.

 _And I suppose in this case no response is a good response,_ she reassured herself. _After all, it’s probably best that she wakes up **after** the exorcism. In meantime, I’ll just keeping letting her know she’s not alone._

Another low growl caught Hannah’s attention and she looked up to see that the grey wolf had padded closer again. She frowned. “What’s up, Wolfie?” _Not the best name but it’s not like I know what he’s actually called…_

Hannah followed his gaze and realised that the wolf’s stare seemed to be fixed on Beth, a faint rumbling in his throat again. Then she remembered how unhappy both of the wolves had been when Jack had carried Beth into the sanatorium and had a flash of understanding. “Can you… can you sense the wendigo spirit?” she asked quietly. “Somehow?”

Vivid amber eyes flickered over to her momentarily, before returning to Beth’s still form. Hannah blew out a sigh, frowning. “I’ll take that as probably yes.” She was trying not to think too hard about it, because it made tendrils of useless panic start invading her chest, but her mind kept wandering back to the fact that her sister was very much on the clock.

_Please, please, hurry Jack._

Wolfie heaved a big sigh of his own and lay down a few metres away, resting his head on his paws as he continued to watch the comatose form of her twin warily.

 Hannah watched him for a few more seconds, worried, before deciding it didn’t look like he was going to attack her sister or anything. _He just seems like he’s keeping an eye on her._

She eased herself back down to lie on the blanket, careful of her leg, before pillowing her head on her arm and reaching out to take Beth’s hand again. “Now, what was I talking about again…? Oh, yeah, gingerbread…”

xxx

_She was floating in darkness._

_It wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t much of anything in fact – just vast and echoing and dark like the blackness of a dreamless sleep._

_Occasionally consciousness ebbed in and then out again, like the flow of the tides, but it never lingered long enough for her to form any proper thoughts, the blackness rising to swallow her again without any struggle._

_She drifted in the dark, like an anchorless ship –_

_A flash of red._

_She stirred, momentarily perplexed._

_The red shimmer glowed like a beacon in the dark. It was far away, but she could still feel its warmth, washing into the black void like simmering heat of an active volcano. It was jagged and lovely, and sharp and sweet all at the same time, and it crooned promises of warmth and heat and **hunger**_ , _oh the **hunger**_ **–**

– _and the heat was a glorious burning now and she stepped towards it, entranced, and burning, and entranced and_ **burning –**

“Beth.”

_The voice cut across the darkness with clarity of a bell. She halted, confused. The red shimmer roiled and beckoned and **burned** , but she ignored it for the moment, concentrating hard. The voice was **so** familiar._

“Beth,” _the voice said again, rolling through the darkness like the silvery peal of a bell._ “I don’t know if you can hear me, Beth, but I’m going to keep talking to you anyway. I’ve no idea what about and I might have resort to reciting fairytales or something, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to put up with my rambling for the foreseeable future –”

_She floated in the darkness, halfway between the angry, churning sea of red and the beautiful silvery speech, listening raptly to the familiar cadences of a voice that she couldn’t quite identify, and which held her in place better than any anchor._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, bit of an action switch this chapter, somewhat inevitably given that Josh and Sam finally got their butts up on the mountain. xD I’ll do my best to post again as soon as possible – thank you again for reading, and if you liked it, please let me know. :)


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